Demons to Spirits
by LeoGryffin
Summary: Hermoine and Severus confront their troubled past in a search for a spell to end the War. Will they succeed? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Dr. Hermione Granger, oblivious to the gloriously cool August day around her as she sat at a table at Florean Fortescue's, bent over the previous night's notes. The experimental potion she had been working on for the past seven weeks had culminated in a disappointing failure and a destroyed laboratory, and her mind raced over the possibilities. What mistake had she made? Where was the missing…or extraneous…ingredient? Had her equations been incorrect after all? She had been so sure, so certain that this most recent permutation of the _Spiritus Insata_ spell that she had devoted the last two years to would be the success she and the Ministry badly needed.

Rubbing her temples, she realized that indeed, the whole morning – and part of the afternoon, by the look of the sun's rays – had fallen away while she studied her calculations in vain. She sank deeper into her chair, waving away Florean's polite admonition that she should come inside to get out of the rays, but gratefully accepting the tea and biscuits he surreptitiously placed on her table. He had quietly supervised her self-recriminations for well over a year, and his owl to Dumbledore this morning contained a simple request. _Please convince the ministry to give her some time and space,_ Florean had written. _This is so personal to her and her failures are becoming more and more difficult for her to bear. You know as well as I the importance of her work, but she feels the weight of the world today. Keep Diggory off her case till at least tomorrow, if you can. Yours, F.F._

Naturally, Hermione had no idea that Florean kept a silent vigil on her mental and physical health, but she noted with a wry sense of gratitude that the tea contained a soothing charm barely detectible by anyone but the most attuned Auror. "Perhaps I should return to that profession," she muttered to no one in particular. "Obviously I am a total failure at research…"

"Indulging in self-pity, Miss Granger? I hardly think that your name will ever be associated with failure. Impatience, yes, but failure…not likely." She looked up with her weary eyes into the face of her former Potions Professor. Although he was the last person she was in the mood to see right now (with the possible exception of Amos Diggory…gods know how she was going to stand before him and explain how she had failed again), she waved a hand in the direction of the unoccupied chair across the table to indicate that he should sit.

"If I didn't know better, Professor Snape, I'd think you said something flattering. Fortunately, I do know better. But, I am not in the mood to get into a sparring match with you; I'm not an equal partner as I haven't slept in 3 days. Join me for tea?"

Snape considered for a moment, and then sat down. "I take it that the latest incarnation did not produce desired results. These things take time, any spell this complex is going to take time."

"I am losing the heart to continue." As soon as she'd said the words, she wished she could take them back. The hooded, cold look in Snape's eyes revealed that her words had cut him. "We all bear our crosses, Miss Granger. Some heavier than others, of course."

"I didn't mean…I spoke foolishly, I know all too well of your…"

"It's all right, Miss Granger, nothing you say can possibly hurt me. Don't think of it." Unfortunately, the sudden iciness of his tone belied the fact that her words had bothered him. And smacked her in the face with the fury of angels scorned, as surely as if she'd been slapped. She had no right to wallow in despair given his continual sacrifices for the cause; after all, the spell she was working on was designed to give him retirement from his painful double agent role.

"I am sorry. Really – sometimes I am stupid and childish and I know it. I wasn't thinking. Actually, I would like a word with you about my stumbling blocks, anyway; if you have time before term starts?" She hoped the olive branch would be enough. She knew that the potion part of the spell that had her confounded was pretty likely not the cause of the problems. But she also knew that he was about the only professor at Hogwarts that she had not directly involved in the research; he was all too aware of this too, and she knew that it probably irked him no end that she was in charge of the project. He had certainly never volunteered assistance, at any rate, and she knew from Minerva's frequent letters that he sneered and found excuses to leave the room when the staff discussed the work she was doing.

"Hmmm…" Snape started to say, looking down the street for a moment. "I'm on my way to buy a few potions ingredients I cannot get in Hogsmeade. After that, the rest of my evening is free. I would be… available… then. Or you could come to Hogwarts…"

Was this Snape? Had he just said he would actually help? 

"I would be grateful to have a fresh set of eyes. I need to rest for a while, also. Could you…would you be averse to coming to my flat later in Muggle London? I'd invite you back to the laboratory, but…I…the latest incarnation of my work was quite destructive."

Snape considered this carefully. While he made a huge show of disapproval and loathing around the other professors involved with assisting Granger with the research, he secretly wished to be involved. He just knew that it was a bad idea. Not only was she, he grudgingly admitted, more than capable of handling the potion work involved; she had graduated from "annoying brat" to "avoid at all costs because you foolishly care" in her seventh year. Her brilliance matured her before this, but the battle of the fall of her seventh year had given her a maddening exterior of steel coupled with a vulnerable soul. Only he could really understand her feelings; her need to remain forever composed and hard on the outside, with the boiling cauldron of hate and fear and loathing that remained buried under the surface. Some of that hate was directed incorrectly at herself, and certainly much more correctly at him, but he wasn't going to be the one to broach the topic. It was too painful for either of them to contemplate.

No, Hermione Granger should never have had the experiences she had. He felt as if he had made her what she was. He had forever cursed himself while trying to cut himself off from the worthlessness he felt, the rise of caring for her that he knew he could not afford. He had known what would happen…thought he could not afford to blow his cover…could have spared her. The worst part of it all was that she knew his role, and had forgiven. That forgiveness was undeserved on his part and made it all but impossible to just sit and speak to her in a setting like the deepening shadows of late afternoon in Diagon Alley. To go to her flat; he sighed, steepled his fingers, and summoned up the most hard mask of unfeeling he could muster under the circumstances.

"I find that most inconvenient. I can't be running around Muggle London till all hours. It's late as it is."

She found this an expected response, though she had noted the flicker of indecision that passed over his face before he said the words. "I would be most grateful, Professor, if perhaps I could simply copy the notes and give them to you. I hardly…" acid crept into her tone, "wish to burden you with my company when you could simply owl me your impressions from the sanctity of Hogwarts. To be quite frank, I am amazed at your interest at all, and I would be grateful for your time when you have so many other _important_ things to do." She let the acid stay in her tone, but deep down she knew he would rise to the challenge.

Her words stung briefly, but he could see that she had regained enough of her fire to bait him…that was something positive he could accomplish for the day, at least. "I will be at your flat at 7pm, if that would be quite convenient."

She inclined her head in acknowledgement, and fiddled with her bag for a minute, coming up with a small, unremarkable and battered tin teacup. "This is a portkey; my home location is supposed to be a secret as you well know. Not that I can't trust you, of course, but Ministry regulations…"

"Yes, Miss Granger. I will use the portkey at 7. Good day, till then…" Snape stood up and walked away quickly.

_Will wonders never cease,_ Hermione thought to herself. _Years of studiously ignoring me, and he turns up when I need him._ For a minute, she considered the possibilities, and then suddenly she knew. _When I see Albus again, I'm going to throttle him. _"Florean!"

"Yes, Dr. Granger?"

"Send any owls lately?"

Florean Fortescue only winked and whisked away, whistling cheerfully. Hermione suppressed a giggle and threw a few Knuts on the table as she apparated away.


	2. Chapter 2

Albus Dumbledore sat back in his chair, reading the latest missive from Florean. Apparently all was going according to plan; Severus was meeting Hermione later to go over the notes. Albus knew that Snape normally would cut off his big toe before spending time unnecessarily with Hermione Granger, but he also knew _why_ Snape avoided her like the Moldavian plague.

If he admits to caring, starts to feel invested, he thinks it will kill him.

Moreover, there was too much at stake here for him to _not_ become involved. He knew that, but his fear of being in Hermione's presence had kept him with his head down, insisting he was not in danger with his double-agent role. Albus knew differently. He knew the signs that Voldemort's patience with his pet Death Eater at Hogwarts was nearing an end. When Snape returned from a night with Voldemort, the recovery time was longer these days. He would never admit it to Albus, of course, but the time under Crucio had to be increasing as Voldemort tortured him for information on the machinations of the side of good.

If Albus could take the pain away, he would do so with no reservations. Snape partially spied of his own accord, but partially he felt he owed a debt to Dumbledore. He had absolutely discharged the debt and then some, but Snape was a complicated man in that regard.

He saw the same pain, and complications, in Dr. Granger. After what happened her 7th year…well, most children would have ended up permanently in St. Mungo's. While it was a success story in terms of her recovery and acceptance, she was certainly not the same for the experience. She became hard, instead, and determined; reminding Albus very much of a younger Severus Snape. She was easily among the best Aurors the ministry ever had, especially in tandem with her partner, Harry Potter. After several high-profile Death Eaters under her belt serving time in Azkaban, she had abruptly owled Diggory for a research assignment, citing an idea she had come up with that she felt could be accomplished.

It was an audacious project, to be sure; and if it was successful, could end the war in a hurry. But, it also could be perverted easily to serve the Dark Lord's purposes, and therefore Dr. Granger had been secreted away in Muggle London. Only she could Apparate to her flat, and only one Portkey existed to allow entrance. She spent the rest of her time at the Ministry's headquarters in a well-hidden basement lab behind Arthur Weasley's department.

Owls were frequent to Professors McGonagall, Vector, and Flitwick; much of what was involved in the spell she was attempting had to do with their branches of expertise. Everything hinged on a potion, however, and the fact that Severus and Hermione refused to speak to one another on the issue confused him at first. But, gradually, Dumbledore was able to see what forces were at play. Pride, stubbornness, certainly. The fact that she wanted to prove herself to her former professor who had always been unbending in his disdain for her intelligence; even though Albus knew with clarity that Snape was more impressed with Hermione than any student that had ever graced his classes. And, by the same token, Snape didn't want her to think that anything she had to say or do was of the least importance to him. Stubborn children!

But Albus didn't get his reputation for being omniscient for nothing. He knew that Snape and Hermione had both been on the edge of caring for each other too much after their shared experience in Hermione's 7th year. Neither of them could bear to admit it, so they closed themselves off from one another and dove into their worlds with a separate, firey vengance.

Naturally, some of this was helped along by the natural turning to one another that happened with Harry and Hermione after Ron's passing. If possible, Snape's hatred for Harry Potter grew in the months after Snape saved Hermione. Harry wasn't aware of this, and Hermione was only peripherally aware from the bond that she and Severus shared. As Harry and Hermione's fame grew as Aurors and as Hermione continued her Muggle university studies in medicine to compliment to her already impressive knowledge of magical healing, he could see Severus retreat further and further into himself. Of course, Snape had to hear all about Harry and Hermione's exploits at Voldemort's right hand, and don't think for a moment that old Tom Riddle didn't know how to exploit Snape's anti-Harry sentiments. 

The steel was there out of necessity, to be sure, but the wall's thickness really wasn't as much as Snape would have liked.

This afternoon, he had ordered Snape to run into Hermione in Diagon Alley. He knew the Potions Master thought him a meddling fool for this errand, but a meddling fool he must be. He knew them both too well and it was simply high time they confronted the demons they had been running from for 6 years. It was time.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione took a quick shower and rummaged around for a decent vintage of wine. _If we're going to talk, I'm going to get through that wall a little._ The prospect frightened her some, but she knew that his defenses had to come down a little for him to be of use to her in this project. She didn't exactly approve of Dumbledore's all-too-obvious machinations, but she admired the logic she knew was behind this. _There is a time and place to reopen old wounds,_ she admitted to herself. _I need his input._

Even if it wasn't the potion that was part of the spell at issue, she knew that his logical eye would see something she might have missed. He certainly had enough command of the other disciplines involved, and the "grey arts" she was incorporating with the Ministry's permission were old familiar territory for a Death Eater.

Checking the time, she realized she had just enough time to pull back her hair and throw on some old jeans and a shirt before Snape was likely to appear in her living room. She was seated on the sofa when he suddenly appeared.

"Professor Snape."

"Miss Granger. Or, should I call you Dr. Granger now?"

"Actually, Hermione would be fine."

Realizing he had never reached that level of familiarity with her name, even though he knew so much about her, he nearly choked on the name. "Hermione, then. And please call me Severus; you haven't been my student for 5 years. So. Let's see your notes, and maybe you can catch me up on your latest incarnation of the spell."

Always one to cut to the chase. "Can I tempt you with some Ogden's? Or a glass of wine?"

_Gods, does she know how alluring she can be?_ An inaudible sigh escaped, as he responded, "If you are having wine, I will take a glass; please don't go to any trouble on my account."

"No trouble; sometimes I find that a little wine can actually bring problems into sharper focus." This made sense, of course, and was a technique he often employed. As long as you didn't fall too deeply into the bottle, sometimes in the relaxation alcohol offered, answers became clear.

Glasses in hand, Hermione brought Severus up to date on the research. "As you undoubtedly are aware, my research involves giving the best properties of a ghost to a mortal for a short time. The ability to be invisible is easy enough," waving her hand artlessly in the air, "but cloaks and charms can't make you non-corporeal. The sticking point has been making the spell attribute the ability to go through walls and keep oneself completely undetected; the rearrangement of atoms…"here her foray into Muggle science was a point in their favor, since atomic theory wasn't something widely discussed in the magical world. "…requires so much effort on the spellcaster's part. That is where I am stuck…granting enough magical power when in noncorporeal form to be able to travel into and out of places at will. Apparating, as you might be aware, leaves too much of a magical trace to be usable. We must have the spellcaster be undetectable by conventional or magical means."

"I was incredibly close," she continued as his eyes raised. "I suspect one of my arithmantic calculations is off, though I won't say that the potion might simply be…flawed. That's where your help would be most gratefully accepted." She took a deep breath, and then sipped her wine expectantly.

Snape pored over her notes, fascinated. She was truly an amazing intellect; the fact that she could combine so many disciplines within magic, and Muggle physics and chemistry, into such an intricate spell was nothing short of phenomenal. Not that he was going to give her the satisfaction of hearing this from him, of course. He knew all too well how Diggory and Dumbledore..and Potter, his mind spat…coddled and encouraged her. Besides, a word from him made no difference. But, the problem with his logic was obvious. Once her spell was perfected, he could retire from his double agent role. Anyone could drift into a Death Eater meeting, listen in, and leave without being detected. Even regular ghosts couldn't do this, because they were tied to buildings and couldn't move between them or go very far from them. Of course, the problem was, if Hermione's work was ever discovered by the forces of the Dark Lord, the war would be lost for the forces of Light. It was reminiscent of the Muggle development of the A-bomb at the end of their World War II – whoever harnessed the destructive power of the atom first would win the war. The stakes were high, and only a very few who were completely trustworthy knew of her research. Everyone else only believed she was a minor functionary in the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts working for Arthur Weasley, and former Auror, hiding from her fame. 

For a moment, realizing the stakes involved here, the weight and thrill of having such trust from Dumbledore overwhelmed him. He really was not worthy.

Swallowing some wine, he nodded curtly. "Miss Granger…Hermione. This work is…acceptably thorough, to this point." Her eyebrow cocked at this comment. Anyone who knew Snape knew this was quite a compliment and quite rare. She filed that away for future reference. "It will take me some time to peruse your calculations and work through the charms involved, and of course I'll want to sit down with your other correspondents at Hogwarts." He paused, and dove in where spirits fear to tread, hoping he wasn't making the largest mistake of his life. "I would suggest a sabbatical of sorts for you. Your laboratory was destroyed, correct?" She nodded. "Come to Hogwarts. We can all pore over this together, and I will…" _Well, Snape, if you're going to do it, might as well not go halfway_. "I will make my private laboratory space available for the research…if you can stand being in the dungeons, Gryffindor." He tried to sneer, but somehow failed.

For a moment, her veneer of hardness dropped. So many memories buried within the walls of Hogwarts, some that she feared and some that, frankly, tantalized her. It _would_ be good to see Albus and work through a few of the things that only he knew about her, that only he could help her with, that she had left unused since her time at Hogwarts. Of course, it would be wonderful to spend time with Minerva and Poppy Pomfrey, and…Severus was right, her lab was a mess. There were far more reasons to go than to stay in her dreary flat while waiting for the lab to be rebuilt, re-warded and hidden.

A wicked glint crept into her eye. "I'm not one for spur of the moment decisions…I have an owl or two to send tomorrow from the ministry." She did not ever owl or receive owls at her London flat, as it would be too risky. "But you can tell Albus that he can expect a scholar-in-residence if he so agrees, and in exchange, I will volunteer to tutor a few students. Have to earn my keep, you know."

"Hermione." An unusual edge crept into his voice…one that she wasn't sure anyone but Albus Dumbledore and herself had ever heard, but she had heard it before, 6 years previous. It was the edge that belied his emotions regarding that night, what she had become, and his perceived role in it. "You have more than earned your keep, and you know that. I will relay your message to Albus. We can expect you tomorrow, then?"

"Yes, Severus. See you for tea? I would like to see the lab, as to be frank, I don't recall ever seeing it in my years at school." An outright spar, and something he felt much more comfortable with than the frankness of the discussion at hand.

"As you wish. In my office." He stood to leave. One could apparate out of Hermione's flat, as Apparation only required that you visualize the place you want to be, and required no knowledge of point of origin. Her flat was Unplottable and certainly non-magical, but that didn't matter when apparating away.

"I will see you there. Thank you again, for your time and effort on behalf of the research."

He nodded, and disappeared with a pop.

She sighed, and shivered with the unusual cool of the weather. It was time for bed, Granger. Time indeed. She changed for bed and sat down to write a few notes that she intended to owl tomorrow when her Muggle telephone rang.

Only one person had that number. "Harry," she answered the phone.

"Hello love. Missed you today, was off in Lancashire chasing a bad tip by one of our favorite informants." He snorted, and she knew he was talking about Pansy Parkinson, whose favors could only be culled with the neverending promise of somehow ending up in Harry's bed. 

"Indeed. I'm still not missing the life of an Auror." She cleared her throat and dived in. "Well, the experiment blew itself to kingdom come."

"So I heard from Amos. What's your next move?"

She considered his face if she confessed Snape's visit this evening, and decided to leave that detail out. Harry and Snape really, truly detested one another, and probably for good reason, but she didn't want to go there. "Hogwarts. I need a lab, and a perfect one exists there." Before he could object, she continued, "Besides, all the experts are there, and there won't be as many tired owls if I'm right there for a while."

"Running away from me then, I expect?" She heard the hard edge, and it wasn't unexpected.

"Harry. You know better."

"I know nothing, these days."

She sighed. Their emotionally charged, desperate relationship of 6 years ago had dulled over the intervening months as she realized that they were not truly compatible, but that didn't stop her from letting it go on too long. She had released him, unwillingly, from their engagement nearly 2 years ago, but Harry didn't stop hoping. She kept waiting for him to move on; to meet another woman, to finally put their past behind them. She loved him very much, but she was not in love and never would be. At an intellectual level, he understood this and admitted she was right; but on a purely male hormonal, and in some sense emotional, level, he had a hard time with not being in her bed anymore. They had become excellent lovers to one another, certainly; but it wasn't enough, in the end.

"I'm not running away from you, though I have to admit sometimes you make me want to run away. You can be quite impossible, Harry Potter." She hoped that had the light note that she intended, and at his response, she knew she'd achieved that end.

"I know, I know…sexual frustration, darling, that's all."

"You need a woman."

"Probably. Hey, did you see the Cannons play last week?" His change of topic was welcome to both of them, and they chattered on about Fred and George (his housemates, the Weasley twins), Parvati and Seamus's baby daughter, and other small talk. Then as they were about to hang up, Harry dropped the bomb.

"Hermione…be careful at Hogwarts. I shouldn't tell you this, but what the hell, you're still an Auror, technically."

"Go on."

"We have reason to believe that Snape might be acting under the Imperius Curse these days."

She couldn't have been more stunned if he had announced he had actually slept with Pansy Parkinson. Her Auror senses would have surely picked that up if… "What makes you say that?"

"One of our agents, who is in the same dangerous line of work as the man we're discussing, insists he saw Lucius Malfoy cast a mysterious spell on Snape last week. Just a word of warning. Be careful."

"Hmmm. I guess it's time to come clean, I had Snape to the flat tonight."

She heard the audible choke. "He knows your location?"

"No, I had him use the Portkey. Dumbledore sent him to convince me to go back to Hogwarts."

"Disturbing. Keep your guard up, ok? You know that charm I taught you to discover whether someone is acting under Imperio? Might cast that surreptitiously; or at least, grab a Sneakoscope in Diagon Alley. Think I'll owl Dumbledore, just in case."

"You do that. Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Sweet dreams, love."

"You too, 'Mione."


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione apparated to Hogsmeade the following day, after gathering as many things as she'd need and stuffing them in her trunk, and stopping at the Ministry to send owls and check in with her boss. Diggory didn't come down on her very hard, which made her feel worse, as if he were resigned to failure. After packing up the last of her personal effects, she had waved a weak good-bye to Arthur and headed out. Sad, really, she thought, that she could fit everything she needed in one trunk. It was a magical trunk, to be sure, but even they had limits; she just didn't have much…stuff. _I'm just not very sentimental_, she thought wryly. "Reducio", she said to the trunk with a flick of her wand, and then stuck it in the pocket of her robes.

It was honestly difficult to see Arthur Weasley every day. She knew he didn't hold her responsible for Ron's death, but that really didn't make it any easier. She could see Ron in him, and it hurt. Naturally, Harry, Hermione and the Weasley family had talked for days about Ron's death and had certainly come to a peace about it, she still could see the sadness in Arthur's eyes. 

There was a rap on the door of a low, nondescript house on the Hogwarts side of Hogsmeade. "Hermione!" Remus Lupin stood, positively beaming, at the door. "I was so happy when I got your owl. Sirius is off getting something to eat, and will be along shortly." She walked into the cottage, which was deceptively larger than it appeared from the outside. "How is Sirius getting along? Harry hasn't mentioned him in a while."

"He's been quite ill, which is why I'm here right now. I really should be up at Hogwarts preparing for the influx of students, but Sirius doesn't have anyone to take care of him during the week. He's getting better. He had, if you can believe it, a non-magical malady…mononucleosis! Can you imagine?" Remus had returned as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher the year after Hermione's graduation, and to everyone's great relief, had stayed on. At this point in the war, many of the old prejudices had died, thankfully.

"Oh, dear. Why didn't you owl me? You know I'm a Muggle doctor as well as a mediwitch!"

"Well, he's better now, and I didn't want to disrupt your research." Remus was aware of the research, as she consulted him from time to time on the grey magic she incorporated into the working model. "I did hear about your – ah – meltdown from Dumbledore."

"Sirius doesn't know, right?" Given Sirius' role to play in the war, this information was a little too valuable to let him in on. He was very much a wanted man, and he played his role with gusto…too much so sometimes.

"Right." At this, the door opened and Sirius Black strode into a big hug from Hermione. "How are you dear?"

"Fine, fine, I wish you hadn't gone to all the trouble of lunch. I hear you've been ill."

"Better now, though Remus wouldn't let me trouble you for help."

"I've already been on him about it. Your color is good though, I am sure you've recovered. What's new with you?"

The three prattled on about life, as much as she could say without giving away her real work to Sirius. She knew he also had a secret duty for the Light, and didn't ask.

"Harry says the two of you are still on the outs." It wasn't an accusation; it had been two years, but Sirius still held out faint hope of reconciliation.

"We're best friends, and nothing more, and it's none of your business anyway," she said as she punched him lightly. "Why, you're looking for a piece of me then?"

Remus snorted and clapped Black on the shoulder. "She's on to you, my fellow."

"Humph," said Black, who changed into a dog and put his head on her lap and wagged his tail. 

_Glad I came here for a laugh before seeing Snape_, she thought.

"Let me walk you up to Hogwarts," Remus said. "I really do need to get back, and the doggie here can take care of himself." Sirius changed back and grinned. "See you tomorrow, thanks again for coming for lunch Remus. Hermione, it's good to see you again." She put a hand on his arm, and walked out with Remus. Sirius briefly shook his head. He knew she was absolutely right about not being Harry's soulmate, but his heart still ached for Harry. Much time had been spent by Harry at the cottage drinking whisky and pouring his heart out. _They say time heals all wounds_, Sirius thought, _but she is so amazing that it's probably harder to heal that one for Harry. There won't be another woman like that_.

Lupin and Hermione entered the front doors of Hogwarts, and a real smile came at last, for the first time since the explosion. She was home again.


	5. Chapter 5

Dumbledore was waiting for her. He had felt her presence in Hogsmeade, and knew she would have stopped to see Sirius. Naturally, he had sent Remus to ensure her safe passage into the castle.

_Hello, Albus,_ her mind called out. _Long time no telepathically see._

_Hermione. So good to have you. The password is "Toffee beans"._

_See you in a moment._

No one could hear, or see, or understand the bond that she and Albus shared. No one even knew about it. Albus and Hermione shared an incredibly powerful gift; the ability to communicate telepathically. This was rare in the wizarding world. Hermione only developed the gift because of the circumstances under which she was returned to life after the incident her 7th year. It had been an unexpected side effect, similar to the way that Harry Potter acquired some of the talents of his would-be killer as a baby. Dumbledore had used his telepathic abilities to coax her back, call her into the land of the living after Severus brought her, shaking violently himself, into Hagrid's hut that fateful night. The depths to which Albus had to go to find Hermione inadvertently left a trace of his powers in her mind. She was unable to use them as powerfully as he, but she could communicate with him when in close proximity to him. She could not hear others speaking unless she had their express permission in blood, because naturally the gift could be perverted to dreadful ends…she could read someone's thoughts if she had their permission, but was magically bound to never use it unless she had a blood relationship with them. She had never used this charm to bind herself to anyone, so her telepathic powers were only useful in the presence of Dumbledore. She had also never let on to anyone that the headmaster really _was_ omniscient, mainly because he did not use his gift unless it was truly necessary. He didn't spy on anyone. His powers did not extend to the outside world, either. He could not communicate with anyone further away than the Three Broomsticks. Minerva was the only other person on earth aware of the gift, and even she didn't know about Hermione.

Hermione arrived in the headmaster's office. Memories flooded over her. The night Ron died, the night that she nearly died; she had sat here, catatonic, while Harry and Snape had to spit out the story of what happened. It was weeks before she could tell her side of the story, and the grisly details made even the impassive Severus Snape blanch. _Ugh,_ she thought, _I need to push this out of my mind._

"Child," Dumbledore said, "It's never far from any of our minds."

"I know, Albus." She stepped forward to hug the man she now thought of as her father, thanks to the untimely deaths of her parents. "It is just resurfacing a little more painfully now that I'm back."

"That's natural. You can always talk to me."  
  
"Thank you, Albus,"

"Severus would be good to talk to, also, since he was there." Before she had a chance to retort, he continued, "Tea?"

"No, thanks," she squashed her dismay at the continued and constant scheming in Albus's skull, "I'm having tea with Severus in a few minutes."

"Ahhhhhhh." Albus chuckled. He knew that Snape was down in the dungeons positively fussing over making things just right, not that he'd ever let Hermione know. He also noted the fact that Hermione was using Severus' name, and wondered if that was his idea or hers. Best to not look too far into that one.

"I intend to get right to work. Did Severus tell you that I will be available as scholar-in-residence for any students that need extra projects or help?"

"Indeed…most generous of you, Dr. Granger."

"Most generous of you to offer me lab and board for a time. Thank you."

Albus waved his hand. "I think Severus is expecting you. There will be time to catch up later. You know where to find me," he trailed off, pointing to her head. She smiled and turned to descend to the dungeons. "Oh, Dr. Granger?" She turned. "Harry owled me about his contact's suspicions regarding your tea partner. While I'm certain there's no merit to the story, Harry requested I loan you one of my Sneakoscopes."

"Hmm, I think that's silly…but, all right…"

"Just be warned about hidden Sneakoscopes. You may find out more than you bargained for." And with that cryptic answer, he turned away.


	6. Chapter 6

On the way, Hermione stopped briefly at Minerva's office to find out where she would be staying. After hugs and pleasantries, Minerva said, "You'll be staying in Gryffindor Tower, of course. Your rooms are near mine. Look for the portrait of Sir Cadogan on the left hand side of the second set of stairs."

"No, not Sir Cadogan. Tell me…"

"Yes, he requested the job when he found out you were coming." A mischievous glint appeared in Minerva's eye. "You can change it later, I suppose, but he so very gallantly wants to keep an eye on you."

"His is the kind of protection I really don't need. I don't have the heart to fight right now, though," she said with a chuckle. "I'm off to see my lab with Professor Snape, then I think I'll retire to my rooms until dinner."

"Good, good…come have dinner with me and Poppy later?"

"Yes, I'll be there."

Descending into the dungeons, a sense of familiar apprehension crept unbidden into her mind. There was such a past here; and not only of schoolday angst. Repressing a shudder, she rounded the door to the Potions classroom and strode across to knock on the office door. "Enter."

"Severus."

"Hermione. Well, what are you waiting for, sit down." Snape wore the characteristic Overgrown Bat mask of her childhood spent in these walls. Odd, she thought, how well I know that face and yet sometimes I can't feel as if I know him at all. "I see you made the journey in one piece." He poured some tea for the two of them, and sat back in his chair.

"Yes. I stopped in on Sirius and had lunch with him, and Remus." She could see the sneer.

"Keeping such company already. My, my."

"I will always be a friend to Harry's godfather." This really wasn't going the way she intended, not that she should have expected any less.

"How is Mr. Potter? Not that I really need to know the sordid details, of course." She could see he was struggling to be polite, an affectation she could really do without in his case.

"He's fine, busy of course. I don't see him very often but we keep in touch." Whoops, she thought. I guess that gave it away. He noted that she no longer wore a ring, and wondered to himself why he hadn't picked up on that before; then he tried to squash down the hope, and make himself not care.

"You're not together anymore?" At her shake of the head, he said with a bitter edge, "I'm not surprised. You were too good for him by half." An uncalculated risk on his part to admit this to her, and he inwardly cursed the honest statement. Snape had always thought this of the pairing, whether for his own selfish reasons he couldn't say. He refused to let himself think that far into it, and preferred to see it as his hatred of the Boy Who Lived rather than any affection for the woman at tea in his office.

"I wouldn't go that far. Did you just pay me a compliment, Severus Snape?" A teasing glint in her eye, so reminiscent of the verbal sparring they shared on many occasions in her spring of 7th year honors project, when they worked together in the dungeons alone for many hours and had managed to put up a troubled truce. He remembered this all too well. She had been in such danger, and at the time threw herself into schoolwork to avoid dealing with her pain. His part to play was to harass and goad her, to help her release the pain. The teasing rejoinders had often become a way for both of them to hide their feelings about the night Ron was killed. It was certainly an odd psychological contrivance, one that had led to an unexpected levity in their conversations while at the same time creating emotional walls. No doubt that was why she had cut herself off from him after leaving. He had expected it, though he could not deny it left a void. No one had ever been able to match his dry wit and intellect the way she could.

"I wouldn't admit to it. Now, let me show you your lab space…" and with that, the pleasantries were at a merciful end. Watching Snape struggle through politeness was almost more than she could bear; not that she enjoyed the great Evil Bat Snape, but at least the distance and coldness the Bat projected was less disconcerting.

To tell the truth, she feared slipping into any kind of relationship with Snape other than professional and distant. Their past was still something she had preferred to bury when she left Hogwarts, and she wasn't ready to visit the grave. Old patterns would die hard, of course; no one was a better match for her acid tongue, but she remembered what drove her to become so hard and sarcastic in the first place. She never really blamed him for what happened, but that didn't mean that she didn't struggle with the fact that he knew too much about her and that he punished himself constantly for it.

After an inspection of her new work area, which she grudgingly approved of and noted the care in which it had been set up and stocked, she turned to Snape and decided to try the Sneakoscope nestled in her pocket. She was convinced he was not acting under the Imperius Curse by this point; she had always had a good eye for this in her Auror days. But just for good measure, she wanted to try the direct approach.

"Harry received some intelligence about you, and I want to test the theory."

A raised eyebrow. "Ever been under the Imperius curse, Severus?"

"Yes." He wasn't sure where this was going.

"Are you now?"

"Good goddesses, woman. I really wouldn't know, would I?" No reaction from the sneakoscope.

"Can I perform a little detection charm?" At his nod, she waved her wand and the air shimmered green. "Looks like Harry's intelligence was off."

"I always said that about him."

A sudden long-repressed burst of anger shot out her mouth before she could stop it. "If I didn't know better, I would assume you were jealous!" _Ugh, that was horrifying. Really smooth, Granger._

Severus was taken aback. "Hardly," he said with as much coldness as he could muster. But surreptitiously, the Sneakoscope buzzed in the pocket of her robe. Good thing she'd put a silencing charm on it.

"Oh, so you have no problem whatsoever with my relationship with Harry, then?"

"Why should I?" More buzzing. "He is an oaf and you are of no importance to me, other than as a researcher. Your personal life is hardly of any interest to me." The sneakoscope was about to jump out of her pocket, it was so active.

"Really," she said, more amused than upset now. Interesting. "Might have to ask you that again someday." Before he could retort, she casually tossed, "Well, I will be off now. Thank you for tea, and…everything."

Regaining his composure, he said, "It is nothing. We'll talk more about what I've discovered in your notes later, if you are available?"

She checked her watch. "I am going to get some rest, and have dinner with McGonagall. Meet you here at 8?"

He nodded, and she swept out of the room. Well, there was no way to really deny it to himself, even if he denied it to her. No small sense of relief had washed over him when she confirmed she was no longer seeing Potter; he knew he had heard Remus talking about it with Minerva nearly two years before, but had dismissed it at the time as a childish breakup that would have been quickly reconciled. She was still irritating, but he had to grudgingly admit that his previous fondness for her still existed. Upset with himself and the direction his thoughts were taking, he shook his head. He was going to just have to stamp it out, once and for all. What had happened…well, it was something that she should never forgive him for, and even if she did, he knew he could never forgive himself.

Crookshanks was waiting for Hermione in her room. The house elves had outdone themselves getting the room ready, and her cat was perched in the window watching the birds swoop outside. She began running the taps for a long soak in the tub, and thoughts flooded unbidden from her subconscious.

_No, _she told herself with some force. _Don't lose your nerve now, my girl; you can cope with seeing him and being here, but don't dig up graves of feelings long buried. Neither of us will ever be able to talk to one another without the ghosts, but as long as we are strong, we'll survive._ Still the memories swirled in the bath like some evil Pensieve, and for a fleeting second she wondered if Dumbledore was manipulating her mind like she knew too well he could do. She was aware of his fondness for both herself and Snape, and his inability to see the worst in either of them. She and Snape were not that kind to themselves. She knew that Albus would never enter her thoughts unbidden, however, and resigned herself to the magic that lived in Hogwarts forcing her to let her guard down and review the past before she could move into the present here. As painful as that prospect was, she knew it was something that simply had to be done.

Tearing down the mental walls would have to wait, however. She refused to let this wonderful day seeing old friends be marred by the ugliness of confusion, bitterness, and guilt…did she say that?…that lay in the past. 


	7. Chapter 7

Minerva and Poppy's good company jollied her out of her misery. Poppy was especially interested in some of Dr. Granger's better theories of crossover magic/Muggle healing methods, and Minerva couldn't get enough of the discussion of how the transformation from human to ghost form without death required skills very similar to what Animagi possessed. "Such a complex spell, Hermione…I cannot imagine that many will be able to even attempt it."

"Only one or two need learn it fully, and hopefully the war will be over. If, of course, the research ever comes to fruition." She swirled her drink and looked thoughtfully at the changing colors within the enchanted wine.

"Darling girl, you are among us…with the combined strength of the minds here, I daresay we'll be retiring Severus within weeks." Naturally, Minerva and Poppy were completely aware of the difficulties of Snape's double-agent life; Poppy knew all too well the toll the repeated Cruciatus was taking on Snape.

"I have to admit, I was apprehensive about returning. I haven't set foot in the castle since graduation, and there are more ghosts than just the Bloody Baron and Sir Nicholas here for me."

Minerva leaned over. "Have time and distance conspired to heal those wounds, then?"

Hermione sighed. "I think it will take more than that, but I can deal with it. Must deal with it, really. This has gone on long enough." She knew she wasn't just talking about herself.

After Hermione left, the two older women looked at one another. The pain was evident, but Hermione was much stronger than they thought possible. She wasn't the vulnerable child that had left their halls, her spirit's innocence quashed forever. What Poppy and Minerva couldn't decide was if that was for the best, or not. Something had definitely been lost along the way, and they agreed that they hoped she would regain that lost happiness.

Hermione and Snape pored over notes and ideas till early the next morning, and called it a night somewhere around 2. The discussion was professional and had none of the earlier innuendo, bitterness, or playfulness, which suited her just fine. She needed time to think. And, what she didn't realize was, so did he.

The next two weeks continued in much the same fashion; work commenced again on brewing a slightly altered potion with Snape's recommendations, and the two researchers, sometimes joined by another professor with specific ideas germane to the part of the spell she was using, worked late into each night. They were both night people and did their best work after 8pm. She hadn't realized until she worked with Snape in companionable silence for the 7th day how much better it was to have another researcher present, rather than working in solitary confinement at the Ministry. Several times she told him that he really didn't have to devote so much time to her enterprise, but he waved her off. She could tell that he was enjoying the work, and that he was grateful to have finally been included in the project that most likely would save his life…if they could have it done soon.

Once school started, Hermione took on 5 promising students for extra research projects. She met with one each day. Two were Ravenclaw 7th years, one was a Slytherin 7th year, and she had two Gryffindor 6th years that were both excellent in Charms and wanted more work. The Slytherin was interested in the Dark Arts (not surprising she supposed, but as an Auror she could guide him the right way) and the Ravenclaws were both interested in Transfiguration projects. A sixth child, a Hufflepuff 6th year, was on the "waiting list" to work with her in the area of Potions. As she got to know her charges, she was impressed with the quality of the work they were all capable of. She noted such to Lupin at the Head Table a week into school.

Customarily, Hermione had been sitting at the very end of the table between Remus and Hagrid for meals. Albus had a tendency to send general running commentary in her direction via their mind link as well, often causing her to laugh out of turn until she got control over herself. She was sure the teachers down on her end of the table thought her quite mad, but that was par for the course. She had caught Snape gawking at her during a particularly funny joke that only she and Albus had shared. _Good,_ she thought. _Laughter will certainly keep that impossible git at arm's length._

She hadn't kept the date with herself to relive her memories, but after talking to Lupin about his promising Slytherin student, she asked him to come by her rooms later. The newest incarnation of the spell was about a week off and she really needed to stop procrastinating and spend some time coming to grips with the ghosts of the past. Lupin seemed like the safest choice to start with.

Lupin had to withstand a few challenges from Sir Cadogan ("Scurvy knight! How do I know you didn't steal the password in a most unsavory fashion?") before Hermione, hearing the commotion, opened the door and yelled at Sir Cadogan to mind his own business. "How did you get the most cantankerous painting in the castle to guard your door?"

"Maiden's honor, I guess," she said, chuckling. "Remus, do you remember the night Ron died?"

He ran his hands through his hair. "I didn't realize that you were starting to go down this path. Is this why you've asked me here tonight?"

"You've had 6 years here, and I've had less than 4 weeks. I really need to revisit the whole sordid mess. I've squashed it down for too many years, and I need to get the poison out of my soul once and for all."

"I can agree with that logic, but you're far from hitting acceptance. Referring to it only as 'the night Ron died' doesn't really do it justice." He sat down across from her, looking at her fondly. She had always had a very special place in his heart.

"Agreed," she said, "but it's the only way I've been able to think about it up until now."

Remus grabbed both her hands and looked at her seriously. "That night, the darkest of the dark befell you. Your best friend died in a foolish quest to liberate you – died for no reason, and Gods know how that haunts your soul. Your most feared professor risked everything to save you, everything including his soul and yours. You were violated and asked to bear burdens no woman should ever have to. You may have been the only woman to ever escape Lucius Malfoy's depraved plans with your life, and Gods know how that haunts both of you, in not only your own hatred, but his desire for retribution – you know that all too well. The other women had it easy; they were killed after their torment. Ron's and Harry's and Snape's love for you and willingness to die for you ultimately saved you, but at what cost? Malfoy lost in some ways, but won in such dreadful ways. That's the power of the Dark Arts in him."

Remus's last words stung like knives, as she hadn't been willing to think so baldly in those terms. The feel of Lucius's breath on her hair was as new as if it had happened an hour ago. And Snape…had been willing to die for her, and because of Ron's sacrifice, hadn't had to die protecting her. Loved her? Remus was romanticizing a little much.

"I will help you piece the first part together, as I was involved in what happened on this end. OK? Let's talk about this together. As you know, I was here unofficially helping Albus and keeping an eye on Harry and you two, even though I was not an instructor." He held her hands in between his, and they began speaking, completing each other's sentences as they remembered.

Ron. The face came into focus. She had just broken his heart hours before she was taken. She could clearly see in her mind's eye his anger and humiliation at her betrayal of his heart; they had begun to consummate their relationship before she realized how wrong it was for her, and she felt incredibly guilty having to let him down. She had stopped his caress and stood up. "Ron, I can't. I'm sorry…"

"Can't…now…or ever, Hermione?"

"Ever, Ron. I need to stop this; we need to remain only friends. Can you understand?"

"No, I can't, and I won't." He rushed past her, and she could not catch up. In tears, she ran off towards Hagrid's to spill her grief in the arms of one who would understand and have rock cakes and tea to boot.

When she got to Hagrid's, the door was open and Fang was gone. However, she saw Hagrid sitting by the fire. "May I come in?"

"What's wrong with ye, lass? Let's walk and you can tell Hagrid all about it."

She had missed the obvious signs in her grief, and before the Polyjuice had a chance to wear off, the ersatz Hagrid had taken her beyond the anti-apparition wards surrounding the school. She was knocked out with a quick curse; the first images in her mind on awakening were the dank dungeons of Malfoy Manor. She had the good sense not to show that she was awake by screaming, and surreptitiously tested her bonds, which appeared unbreakable. She was truly in a fix, and no one would be looking for her till at least morning.

Hagrid came back to his hut. "Funny, that git in the Three Broomsticks saying there was a dyin' werewolf out in the forest. Summat wrong there, he must have been mistaken." Fang barked and sniffed at the door, and whined. The dog knew Hermione had been there, and could smell the unfamiliar scent of Goyle, Sr. as well, but had no one to tell.

Lucius Malfoy was incredibly pleased at how well Goyle's little raid had turned out. He had never anticipated such incredible bounty; the goal was simply a spy mission to see what kinds of secrets might be stowed away in Hagrid's hut. Hagrid was a fool and easy to manipulate with tales of a creature in distress, and naturally his hair was quite easy to obtain from all of his many jaunts into Hogsmeade for drink of an evening. Goyle had impersonated Hagrid for the intelligence mission, when of all people, Hermione Granger, the mudblood sidekick of Harry Potter, came waltzing in. He wouldn't have thought Goyle clever enough to be cunning in the kidnapping, but surprises abounded. What a delicious treat – to defile the girl most precious to Harry Potter. He could not wait to send the girl back in death slumber to the gates of Hogwarts, especially as no one could ever figure out where she had gone…he had as much time as he needed to play with her before the killing.

In the morning, Parvati came down to the common room to look for Hermione. Ron and Harry were on the way down for breakfast, and she stopped them worriedly. "'Moine didn't sleep in her bed last night. Anyone seen her?"

"Who cares," Ron said crossly, but Harry interrupted. "That is unusual, after all the library _does_ close at midnight. Ron, when did you last see her?"

Ron snorted, but was gallant enough to appear concerned in his hurt state. "The Astronomy Tower. Took her up there for a snog, and she broke up with me. I left her there."

Stunned, Harry and Parvati considered his comment, and Harry said, "Ron, did she give you any clue at all where she might be going?"

"Why should I care? Perhaps she was off shagging someone else and hasn't returned. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to breakfast." Ron sprinted out of the room as Parvati and Harry gaped open-mouthed at one another.

When Hermione didn't turn up at breakfast, Harry approached Hagrid at the Head Table. He was the one person she would go and talk to about her Ron troubles. "Hagrid, have you seen Hermione?"

"Sorry lad, last time I saw 'er was in class Thursday. Has she gone missin'?"

"Yes, Hagrid, and I'm worried." Harry turned to McGonagall. "Hermione is missing."

"When was she last seen?"

"Last night, Ron saw her in the Astronomy Tower."

Worried, Minerva leaned over to Albus, who did a simple location spell. Nothing. Several of the teachers tried various incarnations of the spell. Hermione was not in the castle.

"Oh, dear," Dumbledore said. "A word, everyone." The teachers, Harry, and a grudging Ron were towed up to Dumbledore's office. Once the story was out, everyone felt sure that she must have run down to Hagrid's; Filch was able to confirm with the help of Mrs. Norris that someone indeed had left the castle at about the time of Hermione and Ron's fight.

"I was down at the Three Broomsticks earlier in the even'. A man told me a werewolf lay dyin' in the Forbidden Forest, and I ran off there. When I came home, Fang acted kinda funny, but then we went to bed. I would have been gone when Hermione mighta' been down there; I was gone for at least another hour."

"What did this man look like?" Snape had suddenly come alive and was leaning forward with a wicked glare.

"Overweight, big fellow...not much hair…not much distinguishin' to speak of. Had a curse scar on his right cheek, come to think 'er it."

"Gregory Goyle Senior. I'm sure of it." Snape's eyes were half-closed as his mind raced over the possibilities.

Albus sighed. "If I'm not much mistaken, it sounds like Goyle led Hagrid on a wild goose chase, and captured Hermione in the process. Severus, you know what you have to do." Snape stood up and Ron yelled, "WAIT! I did this, and I am going to HELP you…"

"You cannot help, Weasley, you've done enough as it is." Snape was at his most dangerous as he circled towards the door.

"I love her and I am NOT letting you go alone." Ron stood up in defiance.

"You are, and that's final." Snape swept out of the room, and Ron started to run after him. Harry and Remus held him back.

"Harry…you traitor…you can't expect us to stand here and do nothing!"

"Professor Snape is more than capable of scouting this situation. Calm down, Mr. Weasley. Lovers' quarrels happen, you are no more responsible for this apparent abduction than anyone else here." Albus was firm enough that no response would have been acceptable.

Ron sunk down and pondered the future. Harry knew him well enough to know what he was thinking, but no words would help.


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione paused and brought her reverie to an abrupt halt. "Remus, we're at the part where I have to think about…Malfoy's…I can't think about that just yet."

Lupin considered this, and said as mildly as possible, "I think you need a break, certainly, before we begin down that path. However, I wonder if I'm not the right person to be guiding you through this. My part in the story ends there, at least until you returned."

"Remus, you're my best friend at Hogwarts; I don't trust anyone more than you."

"I wasn't there when you were found. Severus was. And if I'm not mistaken, he's going through the same thought processes right now that you are. He'd never admit it, of course, but you do have to understand that he is in a great deal of pain as well; he's been burying this too, and seeing you is causing the same difficulties for him."

She looked down at her shoes. "I know. I am all too aware of the sacrifice he made. Some days I can't look him in the eye, and I know he feels the same. I don't think the two of us have really looked at one another more than 5 times since I came back, which is saying something considering we spend 5 or 6 hours a night in the lab."

"His sacrifice paled in comparison to what you went through, and he feels more responsible than you know for what happened. Certainly, he didn't have any foreknowledge, but he does feel responsible for what happened, and what you have become as a result."

"Oh? What have I become?"

Remus considered his next words carefully. "Because you can't believe in yourself, can't love yourself, are sickened by what you saw and were forced to feel at too young an age, you're driven. Always pursuing a challenge so you can't sit down and examine yourself too closely. Gods, girl, how many people have completed Auror training and worked as an Auror while going to Muggle medical school? You believe you can't love, because you have tasted a twisted form of love and believe that is all you are capable of." He put up a hand at her protest, "Yes, I know. Harry. But that was never truly love, at least that love that exists between real, committed partners; more the burying of guilt that you both felt over the circumstances of your best friend's death and your own loss of innocence and desire to make amends. You both satisfied certain needs, and I'm not saying it was a bad thing. But you are friends, not lovers, and you don't believe you deserve a real lover. Harry is not your match, no matter what Sirius thinks." He smiled at that, and she felt herself smiling also, even given the seriousness of the discussion. She knew he was right.

"I don't think I can sit in a room with Severus Snape and relive those days. It scares me."

"It's just something to think about. I am willing to sit here and talk with you, or sit in the room with both of you; I just think that talking with him about it will help."

"Ha! Oh yes, he's the touchy-feely type I need to help me through recovery." Remus was right, of course, and the sooner the better, but she didn't have to like it.

"He feels he doesn't deserve your forgiveness, much less the gratitude I know you feel. He beats himself up fairly regularly over this. I've said too much on the subject, and I'm going. You can talk to me anytime, Hermione." He leaned over to kiss her forehead and hug her, and then got up to leave.

"Stay with me," she suddenly said in a very needy voice. Turning, he saw the look in her eyes. _Be strong, wolfman_, he said wryly. "Honey, you know I can't. I can't play Harry's role in your life either. You need to get past this before we can even go there."

She felt quite sheepish at that, because she knew it was true. She'd laid herself emotionally bare before Lupin and it was a place she was unaccustomed to. Before she had a chance to say anything, Remus left. His own willpower wasn't too good, and he could, unfortunately, see himself in a position to accept her offer if he were certain she really wanted it. Sighing at his lot in life, he purposefully strode down to the dungeons. He knew she'd be here later, and he didn't have much time.

Lost in thought, Hermione mechanically changed clothes to her lab regalia (normally, jeans and a shirt, with robes in the halls that came off the minute she got down to the dungeons.) Had she really just propositioned Remus Lupin? _Arggh, I am really in a state. I need to get back to work and just pretend my life never happened._ Not that Lupin wasn't a very attractive man; she'd always found him that way, even as a third year. But he was completely right, and fortunately, stronger than her. That's why she had gone to him in the first place.

Severus Snape, on the other hand, wasn't safe at all. He did bear some responsibility for the current state of her life, after all, though probably not in the ways he thought. _Gods, what a mess_, she thought. _And now I have to go face him._ Best not to look him in the eye.

Lupin had gotten to the dungeons knowing he only had a few minutes to run his errand of mercy before discovery by Hermione. "Snape…you here?"

"Oh, my joy. To what do I owe the honor of one of the Marauders darkening my door on this evening? The full moon isn't for another day …"  
  


"Save your pleasantries for another time, Severus. I have been with Hermione tonight, and I need to say just one thing to you so you'll be aware." Severus folded his arms and watched Lupin warily. He knew that Granger and Lupin had maintained a tight friendship since her Hogwarts days, and frankly, he envied it. All there was between Snape and Hermione was a dungeon wall of shame and fear and pain.

"She is in the process of reliving the events of six years last. She feels, as do I, that it is necessary for her to work through it again to regain some semblance of a normal life."

"Oh, I see, you've taken over as her counselor then," Snape sneered.

"Not exactly; I've provided a safe ear that also knows the other side of the story, and can fill in gaps she might not remember or have been aware of."

"Make sure you stay safe."

Sighing and not rising to the bait, Lupin continued. "That's not going to be an issue. But I feel strongly that you can help her recovery, and though you probably don't deserve my help, I think you can help yourself too."

Snape glowered and looked dangerously at Lupin. "My welfare is none of your concern."

"But hers is. And I think the two of you need to work through this. It will make you both work together better, if nothing else. Lay it bare. You both need it. I am not going to spend my time convincing you of what you know to be right. I'm leaving." Without giving Snape a chance to reply, Lupin turned and headed out the back way, as he worried that Hermione was hot on the trail.

Sure enough, she appeared at the door only seconds after Lupin had cleared the room. "Joy," Snape said in a low voice.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. The potion is three days from ready, and according to your notes it's time for the Choirdia Charm to be placed upon it." With that, the two walked to the lab. She considered for a hint of a moment confiding in him what she had begun with Lupin, but mentally slapped herself on the head. "Not going down that road."

"Were you addressing me?" She hadn't realized she spoke out loud.

"Nothing, nothing." He considered her carefully, and thought about Lupin's admonition. Not tonight, but he would have to talk to Albus.


	9. Chapter 9

Lying in bed the next morning, she made a decision. _Albus, are you awake?_ Her mind called out to her mentor.

_Dear, I think I am always awake. What's on your mind?_

_I spent some time with Remus yesterday, reliving the capture and the time up to where Severus put his plan into motion. I am terrified of going past it._

_I was aware you needed to go down this path, and I'm glad you spent some time with Remus. He is your friend and can help. But let me suggest an alternate path. I believe you need to walk down the valley with Severus. You both need it._

_Remus suggested that too. I can't picture it._ She could admit it to Dumbledore, because after all, he knew her better than she knew herself.

_He is just as frightened, though like you, he'd never show it._

_Have you talked to him, you sneak?_

_He came to see me already this morning._

_Really? Do tell._

_I can't betray a confidence, but I believe he would be willing to open a dialogue with you about the events you both suffered under those years ago._

_I still cannot imagine this happening. Albus, we've built so many walls. It would take time to dismantle them enough to speak plainly enough to get through to each other and absolve one another of this angst. But I'm really tired of it, so I'm ready, I'm a bloody Auror after all so I should be able to face this, right?_

_May I make a suggestion?_

_You're going to anyway._

_You have the ability to open your mind to him, as you do to me. You can't show him your thoughts, or see into his mind, but you can hear each other's words without speaking. I think this would afford the intimacy to break down the walls, so to speak._

She shuddered for a moment. _I would have to explain this gift to him and blow your cover as well as mine. And you know full well that I would have to be in constant physical contact to make it work with someone who doesn't have our gift._

_This presents a problem?_

_Physical contact with him is the crux of the problem, and you know it, Albus._

_He would have gladly slit his throat before hurting you if it had been wise. He truly had no real choice, and by doing the right thing – to live and bring you along for the ride... You'd both be dead if he had made any other choice._

_I used to be tougher than this._

_Liar._

_Too true. I wish you didn't know me so well._

_We are one, in a way, and I'll never stop caring deeply about you. But I care deeply for him too, as if he were my son. Your presence here is vital in terms of creating the potion to relieve him of the responsibility of spying for the Light, but it is also vital in healing one of his deepest wounds. Look at it as a mission of mercy._

_Humph. You are cruel. You know how I feel about mercy missions._

_Go do my bidding, woman._ She knew he was teasing, and said goodbye before collapsing into tears on her pillow.

It was Saturday morning, the day before the spell would be ready for testing again. Better now than never. She dressed in one of her more attractive outfits, put on some makeup and actually brushed and fixed her hair. She needed to make herself feel worthy, and this seemed to help somewhat.

As she ran out of the door, Sir Cadogan called out to her, "Professor Snape, the cur, was outside your door this morning. I would not let him in, of course."

"Oh, Sir Cadogan. As noble as that is, please let me know if Professor Snape is here again. It is all right to let him in."

So, he had come to see her first. She headed down to the Great Hall to eat a spot of breakfast before beginning the journey back into Hell. Upon arrival, she saw that Severus, Albus, and Remus were all sitting together at the Head Table, studiously avoiding speaking to one another and looking in opposite directions from each other as she approached. Taking the "keep them off balance" tack, she sat next to Remus and began buttering toast as if nothing were at stake, and started talking about her Slytherin DADA student. "Such a great mind…if we can keep him on the right side, he will make an outstanding Auror." Remus grunted, and Snape said nothing. She looked to Albus. _Help me, here, old man._

_You're on your own, buttercup._

"So, Professor Snape. How does the boy do in your classes? I think he's quite the credit to your house, as difficult as it is to say something nice about a Slytherin."

Snape raised one eyebrow. "He is acceptable. Potions really isn't his strength. To your other point, I cannot foresee his path. He is from a very old family on the father's side, but has a Muggle mother. Very unusual, that, in Slytherin…at any rate, I work with him and all my Slytherins in my own way." Snape stood up and said, "Now if you will excuse me, I am retiring to my quarters for the day. Good day." He stalked off purposefully, leaving Hermione to ask Albus, _Do you think he means me to follow him? I don't even know where his quarters are._

_I'll show you the way. _"Hermione, dear," he said aloud, "I wonder if I might have a word with you outside…" Remus seemed to be in on the joke and said nothing at all, as Flitwick joined him.

Albus disappeared after depositing Hermione at Severus' door, suddenly remembering an urgent appointment. _With his lemon drops, no doubt, _Hermione thought. _Well, tough girl, here you go…_ She knocked.

Nothing.

She knocked again, and the door swung open. "Hermione."

"May I enter? I know you intimated that you were busy, but it's time we talked."

"We talk every day." He was determined to make this hard on her, but he wasn't sure why he was doing this. He should be down on his knees thanking her for her grace. A better man would have done so.

"Don't play coy with me. You know why I'm here. Lupin and Dumbledore are rather transparent."

He considered her carefully. "They are, at that."

"What you don't know, is what I can do for you. For us. We need to get past this, Severus, and I think it's time you knew the whole truth of what happened. Albus gave me a gift when I decided to live rather than take the easy way out and die, and I am going to share it with you today. Unless the rest of your life is more pressing, that is." She looked around for the first time and noticed the gorgeous tapestries, exquisite furniture, and bookshelves in the room. Given his nature, she would have superficially suspected a spartan apartment with no charm, but she could see that he did have the taste and class that deep down she knew he possessed.

"I'm not sure what you are babbling about, Dr. Granger, but…" She cut him off as she inwardly groaned about her assessment of class, which clearly escaped him right now. "Don't start with me. Just listen."

A wall came down unbidden. He gestured towards the sofa and set the teakettle boiling. As she settled in next to him, she rubbed her temples briefly and began. "As you know, and this is skipping ahead in the work that we must do but is necessary, I was more or less among the land of the ghosts when you brought me to Hogwarts. Albus saved my life."

"Yes, and no one was really certain how. I assume you are about to expound upon this miracle."

"Albus has a reputation of being omniscient. While this is not _quite_ accurate, he does possess the ability to enter someone's mind if he so chooses. He is telepathic. Most of the time, he does not choose to use this gift because it is one that can be alluring, addictive, and perverted to bad effect; he only uses it in cases of danger. Or so he says, but of course, I think that he is not impervious to the thoughts of those he cares about and at some level always possesses awareness of us and our needs and cares."

This explained much to Severus. Telepathy was so rare, but it didn't really surprise him that Albus possessed the gift. What _did_ surprise him was the fact that Hermione knew when no one else seemed to.

"I can see by your reaction that you didn't know, but aren't surprised. I guess I wasn't either when I came to the full realization. At any rate, Albus entered my mind to find me; to see if I was still there, and believe me, he nearly found me gone. I had packed my bags for the journey to Hades, and wasn't coming back. I felt I had been through one too many indignities to live; when you told me Ron was dead, that was the last straw. But when Albus found me inside my mind, he convinced me that I needed to stay. That Harry couldn't handle the death of both of us, and he was needed for the war…"

"Always looking out for Potter. How sickeningly Gryffindor of him."

"I could do without the snide remarks, though I suppose I wouldn't recognize you any other way. At any rate, he told me of all the reasons I was needed. He nearly didn't convince me, but he told me… I can't believe I am confessing this, but you need to know everything. He told me your soul would die if you believed yourself responsible for my death. After everything you had gone through to regain your spirit from the clutches of Voldemort, I knew he was right; it was too selfish of me to die after you had sacrificed yourself on my altar. He was right. So, I returned into life with him, and as a bonus, his journey so deep into my mind produced unexpected results. I now too had the ability to communicate with others using only my thoughts."

Severus breathed in sharply. That one long revelation was very possibly the most soul-rending mass of words he had ever heard. She had lived because _he_ had needed her to. She cared enough to live for him. And, damn her, she was telepathic. Was she reading his mind right now? Gods, he hoped not, because his pulse had quickened with the realization of how his actions to free her from her captor, as abhorrent as they might have been for her, did not cause her to wish to die.

"Hermione, I know you are aware of the walls between us. We've both put them there. I say to you now, and this is harder than you will ever know…" his voice broke. "I am honored that you chose to live in small part because of me. I wish I had known this before…now."

"I wish you had, too," she said in a relieved voice. "But I couldn't tell you."

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"I want to take the journey through our rememberances of the events together with you using the telepathy I have inherited from Dumbledore."

Clearly, she was mad. He'd never allow her into his mind.

"I realize you think I'm mad," at this his lips twitched, "but before you say anything, you should know that I cannot hear anything you don't want me to hear. Unlike Dumbledore, I can't just go in and take what's not wanted, not that he'd ever do that. I only have a fraction of his power. I can speak to you, and you to me, but no more than that. I can't see your memories, I can only hear your retelling. Before you ask," and she anticipated nicely, he thought, "there is a reason that Dumbledore thought this would be…beneficial…for both of us to do it this way. He knows us, and knows that you and I put up our walls with words. We snipe and jab at one another, or we put on the professional mask, but our real words don't come shining through. In our mind's eye, those walls fall away. You may think sarcastic thoughts, but I will be able to ascertain your true meaning, and vice versa."

The impact of all she had said sunk in. What she was proposing was incredibly intimate, and certainly a jar and another half from the way they had gone about their relationship since that fateful night. Perhaps, though, the old man wasn't that far off in his thinking. He was absolutely right that they needed to get past this with one another to be of use to each other in the project they currently shared. He just feared the repercussions of such intimacy. He had sworn never to be close enough to another human being to care, and here was the last and greatest object of his misguided, painful caring asking to be let in.

"I need some time…to process…this."

"You have five minutes. I'll get the tea."


	10. Chapter 10

Clearly, the insufferable madwoman had made her mind up. Every single part of what she was suggesting went against his solitary nature and deep loathing for this kind of crass self-examination, which he supposed was part of the reason it sounded so dangerously alluring. Damn this craziness that Albus had entwined him into. He knew she wouldn't give it up, so he probably shouldn't fight it. He owed her, whether or not he cared to admit it out loud.

Over the cup of tea, she cracked the ice further. "I won't just be able to sit across the room and do this, either. We'll have to be touching. I know how you despise being touched, but you won't have to fend me off, not to worry. I think simply touching hands will suffice, though that's rather untested." Her easy manner about this galled him. 

"I can't let you touch me."

"Don't worry Severus. I don't bite, which is more than I can say for Lupin, Black, or Harry." That was quite deliberate; she knew he'd bristle. 

His next words surprised both of them.

"I will try. But it's been six years since I've been really touched by anyone, other than Poppy Pomfrey in her medical ministrations, and the occasional touch on the shoulder by Albus. Wand curses all the bloody time in my line of work, certainly, but no physical contact. It might take some…getting used to."

"Why do you deny yourself the simple pleasure of another's touch, Severus?" _Damn Albus and his mercy missions_, she groaned inwardly.

"I do not deserve it." His honest answer touched her in a place where nothing had touched her in years. He dealt with all this differently than her, to be sure, but the sentiments were the same. _We don't deserve pleasure, only pain._

"Let's get started so perhaps we can leech some of this poison out of you. I've heard enough." She felt that dangerous caring for him resurfacing after so much time, and thought about squashing it like one of Aragog's children. But perhaps it would be of use here. Still, she worried very slightly, upon seeing the look in his eye of genuine fear, that perhaps Severus Snape wasn't quite as strong as Lupin was the day before, and she had probably better be the tough one for both of them.

"As long as your poison goes, so I can get back to my life as a bat. I am doing this for you, because I owe you, and nothing more." She decided not to answer that, if that was the way he wanted to play it.

She set down her tea, and gently took his from his trembling hands. "No time like the present. One more thing, however. We must share a drop of the same blood for this to work."

S_he neglected to mention THIS? _"You vex me, Hermione. What next?" Shaking her head to shush him, she drew a tiny dagger from inside her earring, and pricked her thumb. "Your turn." He held out his hand and allowed her to prick his thumb, and she pressed her thumb against his for a minute, reminding herself of the blood sisters of her Muggle childhood. Then she took both his hands in hers. She could feel him stiffen, and nearly break away, but she held firm.

He heard a voice, as clearly as if she had spoken out loud.

_Do you give me permission to speak to you this way?_

He found a ready answer that surprised him with the ease in which it could be given. He immediately understood Albus's recommendation on the matter, even if he still cringed at the intimacy of the act. _I grant you entrance to my thoughts, as directed towards you; and do you grant me the same?_

_Yes, Severus. No need to be so formal._

_This is very interesting. I don't believe there has been a telepath in the wizarding world other than Albus and yourself in decades._

_Too true. As I'm sure Lupin told you when he sprang down the stairs ahead of me yesterday, I explored the events surrounding my kidnapping to Malfoy Manor with him from the time of my unfortunate, untimely rejection of Ron Weasely in the Astronomy Tower to the time that you discovered my disappearance and left to join Lucius at his estate for surveillance. Let me give you a short replay of what Remus and I discussed._ She let him hear the conversation from the day before, somewhat condensed, and of course edited out the part where she propositioned the poor werewolf. _Are you with me now?_

_In spirit and mind, and against my will, in body._

At least his sense of humor was holding up. Here we go…

Malfoy had believed the spell that he cast to make me unconscious would last the night, so he didn't know I had been alone with my fears all night. Things really couldn't have worked out any better for Lucius. I had worked myself into a terror, not of my death, but of the thought of Malfoy's goons manhandling me in the sure gang-rape that was to come. Death would have seemed a welcome blessing, as I was always a pretty private person and certainly had never been intimate with anyone; the fear I had at physical violation was incredibly strong. That vaunted Gryffindor courage had flown out the window. I wish in retrospect that I had been able to control fear as I've learned to in Auror training, because Malfoy twisted my heightened emotions into something quite perverse that I've never been able to reconcile.

_Hermione. If I hear you blame yourself for any of this, I **will**__ be forced to take house points._ She knew he was serious behind the teasing words, but it didn't matter. He had to know how she felt.

Be that as it may, I did blame myself for being stupid and even blamed myself for not letting Ron take my virginity that night, just so this monster wouldn't have the pleasure. Morning came and I was face to face with Lucius Malfoy.

_"Darling girl. Welcome to my humble home. I trust you had a restful night? Good, good…I just have one little charm to perform before your breakfast." Naturally, he performed the charm to determine whether I was unspoiled…this was such a bonus for him, to have one of Dumbledore's good girls all to himself. "I see you and Mr. Potter…or is it Mr. Weasley, little whore that you are…haven't gotten to the deed yet. So much the better. I am in an excellent position to teach you the ways of love. And you will love me, Mudblood, so much that you'll die for it when I am done." I couldn't speak; I looked away, and he knew I was afraid. First mistake on my part._

_The sick thing was, I was bound and immobile and my traitorous brain told me that I could do worse. Goyle, or Crabbe, or for heaven's sake, Draco. Lucius was an attractive evil bastard. I couldn't believe how sick that was…that I was actually considering my captor in that way. Fear. Nice way to get a woman._

_This was about the time you realized what might have happened. Care to take over?_

He swallowed audibly, closed his eyes, and tightened his grip almost imperceptibly on her hands.

Naturally I suspected Lucius, since Goyle was involved. Other Death Eaters might have been snooping for information, but Lucius was really at the right hand of the Dark Lord at the time. And Lucius was really the only Death Eater audacious enough to keep an innocent rather than torture you a while and send you back quickly as a warning. I knew all too well of Lucius' depraved sense of lust, especially for young boys and girls, though he'd never captured a witch right out from under Dumbledore's nose that I knew about. Normally Lucius had young Muggles that I didn't know chained in the dungeon. Not that I felt any better for them, and had often found ways to kill them surreptitiously so they would not be further tortured before their inevitable death. Don't be shocked, Hermione, I have most definitely killed; I am sad to say they weren't all mercy killings, but I have always figured that death would be preferable to these children than some of the things I knew Lucius to be capable of.

My arrival at the Malfoy estate was no great surprise; Lucius was expecting me. "Yes, Severus, we have your missing Gryffindor. It's truly delightful, and you don't need to worry about her under my careful ministrations. What we do need to worry about is warning that fool Dumbledore off the trail till I can deliver her body back to his door."

"She is here now, then?" I tried not to appear overly interested.

"Yes, indeed. My son tells me how much you despise the girl."

"Sniveling bratty know-it-all, best friend of Potter."

"I think my idiot son fancies her."

"I find that doubtful, she's certainly no prize." Good thing Malfoy was all twisted up with gleeful depravity right at the moment, or he might have seen through my façade.

"Actually Severus, I find her rather attractive, in a Mudblood sort of way. She's a little old for me, of course, but rather innocent. I think I'll keep her a while. What do you think the old fool will do?"

"He doesn't suspect you, of course; they are searching the forest, Hogsmeade, that kind of thing."

"I intend to take her innocence, and twist her well…we may have a Gryffindor Death Eater yet, eh? She's very bright, is she not?"

"I suspect it might be more to your ends to kill her, so that she can never use that intelligence for the other side." 

"Ah, perhaps, perhaps indeed." I was playing the good game, but underneath I would have done anything to ensure your safe out of the castle. Suddenly, I had a bit of inspiration. I might not be able to save you from all of Lucius's whims, but I might be able to get you out alive with careful subterfuge. I had a tiny portkey on a chain in my robes that I always kept with me in case of disaster. Dumbledore had insisted that I keep it and use it if necessary, though I never had any intention of doing so. If I had, it would have created suspicion…really, if I was in the throes of Cruciatus and suddenly disappeared, it's not like it would go unnoticed. I could use this to get you out, if I could only find a way to get you alone. I'd send you back and come up with some rot about you wresting my wand away and stunning me and then escaping. Lucius had never had a witch who could actually use a wand in the dungeon, so while it was a thin story it was the best I could come up with on short notice. 

"I know this seems rather unlike me, but I have a request."

Surprise dawned on Lucius's face, then an evil smile. Is there any other kind of smile in the Malfoy world? "You fancy having a go, then?"

"I do. She has caused me untold headache in my attempts to keep Dumbledore off balance. I'd like to repay the favor before you're done with her."

"That is quite unlike you. Though, of course, you've never been interested in the faceless victim. This is more…immediate for you, and an opportunity you've been ill afforded. Well, I can certainly see how loyal you are these days, something I would have never thought would happen, but Draco gives me a good report. I have a proposal…"

Leave it to Malfoy to have a depraved idea or two up his sleeve.

"As long as I get her innocence, you will get the leftovers. I'll grant you a taste of that girl, but I get to possess her first."

This was not what I was hoping for.

"Can I see her? Perhaps…perhaps I can get her to let her guard down some. Let her believe I will save her or some such rot. That will hurt her all the more, then, when I don't save her." I was grasping at straws.

"I will take you down there. This should be good."

"Lucius, she'll hardly believe I'm her savior if you're there watching." This wasn't going well at all.  
  


"I concede the point; I'll stay out of sight then. But I think I want to watch this game unfold."

I had no choice but to continue the charade now, but I knew I had lost this battle. I came down the stairs and knew you thought you had been saved. I couldn't have felt more bleak. I came to you and murmured that I would try to save your life, and believe me, it wasn't a lie. But my hopes for a peaceful ending were slipping away.

I was faced with a dilemma. If I did anything to save you under Lucius' nose, I would be found out and likely targeted for death, and of course I could never be useful to the Light again in my capacity as double agent. But allowing my enemy to take you, and having to stand by while it happened…I was unable to think clearly about how to proceed.

Lucius was impatient with me, because you certainly still looked upset instead of believing your teacher had come to free you. He leapt out of the shadows. "A word, Severus."

"She senses your presence, fool…she is a highly capable witch. Either leave us alone, or I believe I will take my leave of you until the morrow."

"I won't leave you alone, but I have a better idea. I think I'd like to watch you seduce her."

"In your dungeon? Are you mad? I hardly think I can make her want me in your chamber of horrors. I'm her least favorite person to start with."

"I taught you the techniques, old friend." That much is true, sad to say. Before I came over to the other side, I was often the unwilling slave of Lucius myself. He fancied me for a while, though I can't fathom why. I wasn't allowed to question. It was penance for my bad choices in getting involved. "You could make her want you, and then I'll break her by denying you to her. This should be interesting."

Hermione pulled away from his touch. What a sick bastard Malfoy was. Hatred coursed through her veins.

Snape spoke out loud. "I've disgusted you more than you can voice, eh?"

"Malfoy," she spat. "We were bloody well both raped by the monster. How can you look at his face?"

"Practice, and constant hatred, and the need to win this war."

"I…" Suddenly needing air, she fled out the door.

Severus sat, staring miserably into the flames and curiously missing her warm touch. Would she come back to finish? He was ill, yet oddly compelled.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione ran outside the castle, and straight into Remus Lupin. He held her while she sobbed. "This is so much more difficult than I imagined. I thought I had a straightforward view of things, but I'm getting more information than I can process."

He smoothed her hair, and said, "Any process like this will cause this type of pain as you go through it. But I know that once you've gone through the worst, things will be much better. I truly believe that."

"I can tell now that he believes he failed me, Dumbledore, Ron, everyone, by not blowing his cover and saving me. Maybe he's right. Maybe he made the wrong choices. But that's not all this is about. He sacrificed both of us to the cause, and in the end, we both lived with the consequences of his actions. Ron died, and…"

"You still have more answers to get."

"I should go back, but I don't know how I can face him." She stood, kissed Remus on the cheek, and said, "I have to go back and finish this. I can't run away now."

He put his hand on his cheek as she walked away, and lowered his head in despair for her and for the wake of destruction Voldemort and his followers had left in all of their lives.

*~*

Hermione discovered a disquieting limitation on her powers when she and Severus tried to resume. Concentrating on Dumbledore, she asked, Albus…am I disturbing you?

How is it going, child?

It seems that as things progress, I need more contact to make the connection. Is this because I'm tired, or is the ability finite?

I don't know, Hermione. It could simply be the intensity of what you are remembering. Perhaps you need more physical contact because you are afraid.

It's hard enough to touch him, Albus. My mind couldn't be that masochistic. Thanks for the input.

She looked at Severus, seeing him in a new light. "We have two choices. I can't re-establish my link to you; I've been trying to speak to you and have been unable to get your attention. Either I sit closer to you, more of our bodies touching - in your lap, perhaps - and we see if the increased contact helps. Or we need to break and see if I simply need some time to regenerate before we begin again. I assume the former doesn't sound too appealing, so perhaps we should finish…" She was trying to sound clinical and detached, but failing miserably. Part of her simply wanted to be close to him just to be close, and she couldn't let that part out right now.

He cut her off. "For Circe's sake, Hermione, we're adults. And I honestly do not want to stretch this out any further than we have to. Come over here, and sit, and let's see_." Smooth, Snape. Real smooth._

She tried to stop her jaw from hanging open, and did as she was told. At once she called to him. _Severus?_

_It worked._

_Indeed. Well, I hate to think about the amount of contact that will be required when we get to the bad parts._

_Should I ask?_

_Dumbledore told me that he felt that the limitations might be due to the sensitivity of the material we are covering, and that we might need more physical contact to work this magic._

_Clever, that one. Don't think I don't know what he's up to._

_Indeed. You have to admit the walls are coming down faster than I would have anticipated. The old lunatic is always right, isn't he?_

_There has been that side effect, though I can't say I'm happy you know one or two of my darker secrets. And it's killing me to admit how I manipulated the situation with Malfoy; the things I said about you are untrue and unfair. It's killing me to admit how not in control of the situation I was. Normally I can think more clearly; I can see now that it was my panic over your well-being that created the fog. My indecision cost you so dearly._

_Don't think about that. All's fair in love and war, right? It was war. You were saving me from dying at his hands, right?_

_I botched the job. I let your innocence die. And I did it to you._

_I'm here, aren't I? Let's continue. I believe it was my turn. You and Malfoy came down the stairs again. You both had this horrible grin on your faces, and for a good few moments I believed that you had gone over to the Dark again in a cruel twist of fate. I had known of your spying for Dumbledore, of course, but at that moment the insecurities that I and my friends had experienced in the early years, when we believed you were out to kill Harry, came shining through. You were the consummate actor; Malfoy was so full of himself that he didn't see the look you shot me when he wasn't looking. I knew then you were on my side, but I also was quite aware that you could never let him know that; while your presence gave me hope, it also would damn you in Malfoy's, and by extension Voldemort's, eyes to help me, so I really shouldn't be in a better place than before. Nevertheless, at that moment, I felt safe. No matter what Malfoy had up his sleeve, I wasn't alone._

_I was, of course, oblivious to the fact that you would have to join in the torment. I'm not sure which was worse at that point, not knowing, or the aftermath._

_Hermione…_Snape broke in, choking a sob and tightening his arms around her. _I would have done anything to prevent what happened between us._

_Severus, you were as used as I in his sick games. I just regret that Ron's last vision was of us together. Lucius was as good as his word…he let you "seduce me", and you were too good at that. Too good by half…by the time you were done, I was enjoying it…enjoying the feeling of your hands on me, even when you did something rather painful for Malfoy's benefit. It was truly sick to play the game for his amusement; he was obviously aroused enough at seeing his former lover making love to a woman in that painful Death Eater way with only hands and mouth, to stand there with a self-satisfied smile on his cruel face. But you know, here I was, an unwilling participant in a sex game with two Death Eaters, and all I could think was…if it had been you that finished the job, it would not have been against my will. How could I know that I was playing into his game? I was betrayed by my growing feelings for you._

Sharp intake of breath. _How can you say that, Hermione? I helped that monster force himself on you, for Merlin's sake! I'm sick thinking about it, even now. But I guess it's time for confessions. I couldn't help it. I was aroused by what was happening. And that made me so ashamed. My attraction to you that had been unacknowledged because of your student status…I had put myself in this position, though, and Lucius wasn't giving me an opening to find a way to get you out. I was trapped between revulsion and sick desire and shame at my inability to just slap the portkey on you, let you go home, and then suffer the consequences for being a traitor. I wanted there to be an outcome where I could keep my job as a spy and still keep you safe, but that window was fading._

_Stop beating yourself up._ Hermione took over again, because she could feel him falling down that ugly path of self-hate again, and she was determined to see this through._ We were pawns in a game and believe it or not, I was mature enough to know that your choices were limited, even without knowing of the portkey. Well, as you know, after the exquisite torture you visited upon me, Lucius relieved you to my great shame and surprise, and took what was left of my innocence. It was the coldest, darkest experience I had ever had. I knew, with each thrust of him, that I was slipping away from reality and retreating into myself. You had to stand there and watch the whole spectacle, and I was ashamed beyond belief; my worst shame was that I had been so aroused by you, that what Lucius did affected me in ways I didn't want it to. I thought when he finished the worst was over, and a kind of calm detachment settled over me. No matter how long I was here, if that was his worst, I could take it and stay sane (if only just.) And that monster took me again, and again…the whole day spent suffering his disgusting attentions and liberal doses of pain by his hands and by magical means. I honestly don't know which was worse, not to mention that you were forced to watch this, and maintain your composure so your cover would not be blown. Then he suddenly remembered you. He forced you on me; when you tried to say you had done enough and had other business to discuss with him, and then when he was satisfied you were taking out your vicious hatred of all that was Gryffindor on me, he finally left the room to go find Draco for his turn. He was met at the top of the stairs by Ron Weasley, who Petrified him and came running down to save me._

_The scene that Ron encountered, of course, was that of you trying hurriedly to cover me up and mumble your regrets in my ear and prepare the Portkey, but he didn't know that. All he saw was Snape, the rapist. He advanced on you fully prepared to throw the worst Unforgivable your way. But he hadn't brought Harry with him; he was alone. Before you could attempt to explain, before I could say a word, a green bolt of light shot out from behind him. He had been killed by an unseen voyeur in the shadows of the dungeon, Avery, apparently getting his kicks from the scene that had been unfolding. You drew your wand, and attempted to curse Avery, but he dodged your curse. Draco came flying down the stairs; his moment of hesitation when he saw Ron's lifeless body proved his undoing, but yours as well. You Petrified him, but Avery got the upper hand and put you under the Cruciatus. However, before the battle began, you had managed to unbind me. Avery wasn't paying attention in his glee at torturing you, and though I didn't have my wand, I had my wits about me. I snuck up behind the bastard and kicked him in the groin. The curse was broken on you, and we rushed to Ron's side…but he was gone. His last thoughts were of you taking what he thought was his. It's an ugly thought that has haunted me to this day. I don't know you would have gotten me out alive, but his sacrifice did enable us to leave; but we'll never know if his death was unnecessary. It's haunting, because he is dead because of my actions._

Snape steeled himself to take over, and shifted in the chair. _Naturally I grabbed your hand and Ron's, and activated the Portkey. Too late, far too late. _

_By the time we arrived at Hogwarts, you were comatose. You had decided to stop living; as you said, one too many things had happened. Albus forced me away from you, spent some time with you in Hagrid's hut, and you came to a changed person. You lived, and I constantly repented. We worked together that year on a potion, but you were not the same towards me; you didn't speak up in class, and you were of a single mind to wreak revenge on the world. You turned to Harry in your grief, and away from me, the man who had helped give you to Malfoy in the cruelest of ways, and contributed so much to the death of Ron Weasley. I was in constant anguish, mostly because I knew how deeply I cared about you. I spent all my time trying not to._

Hermione pulled away, and looked at Snape. His eyes were hard, but she could see a tear welling. A tear? Snape? She would have to nip this in the bud before he became completely out of character. "Oh, stop blubbering. It-was-not-your-fault. You were trying to save me, and after all, you succeeded. Here we are."

"It was Malfoy's, and Avery's, and Ron's for being a jealous prat who wouldn't do what he was told, but I still take blame. You have never been happy since, and I had a part in that."

"It's simply time to put that to rest. We have had our burdens to bear, and I like to think we now bear them together rather than separately."

He considered that for a moment, and then did something she hadn't expected. He leaned over and kissed her.

Then, what started as a kiss of relief and absolution became more. Neither of them saw it coming, but the passion was real and intense. She pulled away quickly and stood up. "Severus. We are clearly under the influence of this monster we have slain. I had better go."

He knew she was right, but the intimacy of their contact had torn down the last wall. "I tell you," she continued, "after just the recollection of the first night, I nearly went after Lupin for the same comforts. I believe you and I have atoned several times over for our roles in Ron's death and my rape at the hands of Malfoy. The walls are down. Can we keep them there?"

"Tomorrow, the spell will be ready that frees me from the Dark. Perhaps…"

"Let's talk tomorrow." Suddenly exhausted and unwilling to continue the conversation, she fled the room.

Once she approached the hall where Sir Cadogan was waiting, she looked up to see Remus by her door. "I will be rather scarce the next few days, but I wanted to know if you were all right."

"You know, I think for the first time in six years, I can truthfully answer yes. Just tired. Thank you for being here."


	12. Chapter 12

"Morning," McGonagall said expectantly as Hermione entered the Great Hall for breakfast. "Today's the big day, eh?"

"Mmph." Hermione wasn't in the mood for small talk.

Suddenly, a very unexpected and elderly snowy owl dropped a note on her lap. She opened it and began reading the familiar scrawl.

_Dearest Hermione,_

_I know today is the test of your latest trial; I've kept in contact with Remus, naturally._ Some guilt there…she hadn't exactly been owling Harry every day.

_Keep me posted. I'll be in Hogsmeade tonight with Sirius; I'd love to see you today to go over the success I know you'll have. Meet me at the Three Broomsticks when you're done._

_Love, Harry_

He seemed to know a little too much about her schedule, but she supposed Remus had spilled those beans. Thinking of Harry after all she'd been through that weekend was a little much to consider, as she could see so clearly how she had rebounded into his safe arms, and away from the dangerous feelings she had developed for the Potions Master, after what had happened. It made her sad to see how safety, rather than love, had dictated her actions. She knew she had hurt him. Would he forgive her?

She gave Hedwig a bit of her toast, and scrawled a quick reply. _Message received. See you at the Three Broomsticks at 1pm. –H.G._ She tied the note to the owl, stroked her feathers and said "Off you go, find Harry."

"Good news?" McGonagall asked.

"I am sure you know Harry's in town."

"I did, at that. You know, while you're getting closure with other past events, it might not be such a bad idea…"  
  


"Don't say it. I know. I'll talk to you later." Hermione literally ran out of the Great Hall, nearly smashing into Snape and Dumbledore rounding the corner. She didn't look up or acknowledge them, but continued her pace up the stairs. "What was that all about?" Albus said.

"I am not sure," Snape said shortly. They had arrived at the Head Table.

"Harry's in town," Minerva said quietly.

"I see." Snape's eyes turned cold, and he sipped his tea in silence for the rest of the meal, even with his fellow professors' attempts at engaging him with discussion of the test. _Perhaps she still does carry a torch for that twit. Why does that bother you, Snape, you old fool?_ He knew the answer, of course, but he was not going to admit it, even to himself. As he made his way back down to the Potions lab after his meal, he cursed his inability to keep his mind off her. _The walls certainly had served a purpose._

She was there, of course; he could see her eyes were closed, and she was gently waving her wand over the potion and singing an incantation he didn't recognize. This was clearly her proprietary _Spiritus Cantata_. In A minor, if he wasn't much mistaken. He silently watched and listened to her surprisingly beautiful voice. Mesmerized, he watched her hands form shapes in the air and her wand's tip glow with an iridescent sheen. At that moment, the wand tip dipped into the potion, and sparks flew out. She turned to him, having been aware of his presence but needing to complete the incantation before she could acknowledge him.

"That was the point in which the lab in the Ministry exploded, was it not?" It really wasn't a question. He could see the fear in her eyes dissipate even now.

"Indeed. So far, the spell looks like it will be a success, but of course, we now have to test it. I don't have to tell you that I've never made it this far before."

"I'll be your subject, of course."

"Oh, no. This is my creation and I take the risk. If my calculations are correct, you won't be able to see me after I drink this potion, and I will remain invisible for two hours, give or take. I will be able to pass through walls, through you, and over great distances, as if I were a spirit with wings."

"You should have called this the _Angelus_ spell, then." His attempt at levity brought a snort of disgust. 

"Anything to do with organized religion puts me off my chair."

"We should have Poppy and Albus here."

"Fiddlesticks, I'm not waiting. If I die by my own hand, so much the better." She didn't mean to say that, of course, but her words belied the anxiety of the previous day's work and the sleepless night.

"I won't let you die. We've not completed our…discussions together."

With this truth out, hanging in the air, she drank before she could lose her nerve. At first, she thought that nothing happened, but she could see Severus' eyes go out of focus. All her senses were suddenly hyperaware, which made her happy; the _Ultrasensoria Incantatem_ on day 5 had worked well. She knew that he could not hear her even if she spoke, if all things had gone as planned, but she hoped he'd confirm what she suspected.

"You have disappeared, Dr. Granger. I trust you are still in the room, but I know that if all has been successful you won't be able to give me a physical sign. I'll be waiting for your report." He was shaking. She had really done it. He hoped she wasn't dead, or caught between atoms, or any of the host of other things that could have gone wrong.

She floated around the room, mesmerized with the feeling of weightlessness and formlessness. She decided to try moving through the wall, a huge test of the efficacy of the spell. She concentrated with all her might on moving aside the atoms of stone, and was only partially successful…the hole wasn't quite as large as she'd hoped, but there nonetheless. However, she found a workaround; she could make her form the size of a pin and squeeze through! Snape's additions to the work she had done were really excellent. She came back into the room, and twirled around his head in delight. Then she flew out of the castle for a survey of the landscape.

Hogsmeade loomed below, and she flitted into the Three Broomsticks and hovered above Rosmerta as she poured an early-day pumpkin juice for Hagrid. She flitted over to Sirius's home, and could see Harry bent over a parchment, writing furiously. Of course she shouldn't look over his shoulder, should she? She found that ethical questions weren't as pressing in this state. Of course, this was the effect of the gray magic on the spell; it was so much easier to put aside troubling questions and disturbing sights when you were able to put aside your own morality to be an observer. She entered the cottage and nearly saw the parchment, but he rolled it just as she approached. Probably for the best. She saw him attach it to Hedwig and stalk off to the kitchen for a drink from one of the goblets she and Harry had presented Black as a housewarming gift when they were a couple, and he was first moving into the hamlet in Hogsmeade.

Curiously, Sirius wasn't around, but she decided not to ponder this, and left quickly. She had some time to kill and thought she'd try the ability to move great distances quickly. Similar to Apparation but using no detectable magic, you thought of where you wished to go and forced your atoms to travel there. It was more a function of physics than magic, because you essentially traveled as an electrical impulse. She pictured Diagon Alley, and she was suddenly at Florean Fortescue's. She pictured Bill Weasley's place in Cairo, and she was there in only a few seconds. Amazing. Really, she had to wait for the other shoe to drop, because things were going far too well.

Before she could ponder her fear, she thought of Malfoy Manor. She was there in a flash. She made her way inside and saw Narcissa and Draco poring over a document. Flitting over, she saw that it was his wedding invitation. Not really something she wanted to think about. A quick fly around the home helped her determine that Lucius wasn't there. _What in blazes are you doing, wallowing in your misery…get home._ She got outside and concentrated on Hogwarts, and was back in the dungeons quickly. She took stock of the clock…fifteen minutes, at the very least, left till she would reappear…another thing to try.

_Albus?_

No answer. This was bad…the one thing she had intended to design the spell to do was allow her to have psychic contact with Albus if necessary. She had put magnification ingredients in, but clearly they had no effect. That was a disappointment. Suddenly another idea occurred to her. She curled herself on Snape's lap again, oddly free from the shackles of the day before, and attempted to contact him.

_Severus?_

Silence. _Well, that's that_, she thought; the spellcaster is on her own. She waited for the spell to wear off in silent thought. Hmmm, might be time to try a few of the more theoretical parts of this spell…


	13. Chapter 13

"Albus, three hours have passed since she performed the spell, and she's still not back."

"I can't sense her presence. I am not sure what to say."

"You'd better bloody well know what to say. She cannot leave me waiting like this."

"My, Severus, you've become quite attached to her." Albus was rather amused, and not feeling at all apprehensive that she hadn't returned. They both knew that she had calculated probabilities that the spell could last upwards of a day, so while two hours had been a best case scenario, there were other lesser scenarios that called for the spell to last two or three days. The magic used in this spell was untested, and the Muggle science involved quite theoretical.

"I have _not_. There is just a lot at stake."

"Admit it, you have feelings for her."

"If I admit it will you get off my back?"

"No."

"Then I won't, you insufferable old man." More waiting. "Blast it!" Snape was pacing around the dungeons, with Albus drinking tea and watching him.

"Relax. I think her calculations just may have been off."

"Albus?"

  
"Yes?"

"Damn it all. I love her."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

"You have no idea."

Of course, Hermione was in the room and heard all this. She had realized, to her great excitement, that the spellcaster could control the time they spent in spiritual form; she had predicted that this was a theoretical possibility, but it was an amazing bonus in practice. She'd gone off into an abandoned classroom to practice the change between spirit and human form, and had perfected it. Then, she'd stayed incognito and listened to the conversation in the Potions lab. She really shouldn't have, but that damned spell had such an effect on her ethics.

"I'm here!" she said brightly, winking back into existence. Severus nearly fell down.

_You heard that admission, eh?_ Albus thought in Hermione's direction.

The grey magic worked a little too well. I should feel sheepish, but I couldn't help myself, really.

"Well, it worked. Fabulously. There is only one flaw, and that is that I couldn't establish contact with you, Albus. I tried, but failed."

"That would really fall into perfecting the spell rather than a flaw in the formula, because no one who might likely be using this miracle in the field is telepathic, anyway. Congratulations, my dear, well done. I am off to inform Diggory. Let's drink to this tonight, shall we? We can discuss what you experienced as well. Remus can't be there, of course, but he sends his love."

"Oh!" A sudden remembrance. "I need to get into Hogsmeade to meet Harry. I'm late. Yes, I will give you a full debriefing in just a couple of hours; I just need to do this one thing, and I'll be ready."

Severus watched her go with a nagging bit of apprehension in his stomach. Was he upset because he thought she might have overheard his admission of love? Or was there something more? He'd just have to corner her later for a debriefing.

~*~

Truth be told, she hadn't run off just because she was late to see Harry. He knew she was habitually late and he probably wouldn't even be there yet. She had run off because of overhearing Severus's admission to Albus. The sad part was, she knew that he had to know she was floating somewhere in the room. Why did he want her to know?

More importantly, all he was doing was voicing feelings she already knew to be true. Why else had they stayed apart so long? They couldn't face each other until forced to. She could feel that there was more for him than just random concern the night that he had been forced into seducing her. It had torn him apart, much more so than it should have for a former Death Eater-slash-reluctant-hero saving a mere student. After their time together the day before, she could have seen it clearly, even without the kiss.

Sorting out her own feelings on the matter was going to take time, she thought as she got to the gates and began the walk down into Hogsmeade. It was quite easy to diagnose Severus from a safe distance, but another matter to sort out what she felt. She had spent so many years not allowing herself about anyone too deeply, most of all herself, that she didn't know if she had any genuine emotions left. The façade she had erected fooled everyone but Dumbledore. Harry honestly, in all the years they had been together, had never realized the extent of the barriers to real emotion that she had erected after that night. Have I let go? Why did I feel the need to go to Malfoy Manor, then, while I was testing the Spiritus Insata? I think that I have a lot more work to do, she mused. Part of her thought that confronting Malfoy would heal her, but that was too frightening of a thought to contemplate too far. She could still feel the hate, anger, fear, and detestable longing that his twisted ministrations had created in her. And, how that longing got transferred onto Snape while they had both been unwilling participants in his sick game. How Snape had caressed every part of her, hurting and torturing and making her feel so incredibly good and alive, all for Malfoy's amusement. Ugh! Stop thinking about this! It just seemed to replay in her mind over and over, after the weekend's events.

Not that she was all that thrilled to be going to see Harry right about now, but at least it was away from Snape, and right now that was a Good Thing. Maybe they could talk Quidditch or Pansy Parkinson or something equally mundane so she could have a break from the past and present intermingling.

Harry was sitting, looking rather grim, in the far corner of the Three Broomsticks, his back to the far door. Hermione waved and walked over, smiling rather falsely and suddenly concerned at the look in Harry's eyes. Something dreadful had happened, she was sure of it. She thought to the second that she had flitted over his shoulder as a spirit, and had felt even then that something was wrong despite the lightheartedness of his owl post.

"Harry," she began, and Rosmerta appeared. "Butterbeer, Dr. Granger?"

"Make it two," Harry said softly. His eyes were on Hermione now, and his hand closed over hers in an unfamiliar fashion. "How did it go?"

"Fine. I tested it this morning."

"That's great!" There was an unusual wildness in Harry's eyes. "This will mean a lot to our colleagues, a great deal indeed, if it worked."

"Yes." There was something about this conversation that simply didn't feel right, and suddenly she felt as if she couldn't give away more information about the spell. The Auror training was coming in handy, and she had a sense that she was not sitting with Harry Potter at all. As the butterbeer appeared on the table, she thought frantically for an explanation. "Harry, I have a question."

"Shoot," he said, sipping his drink and sitting back in a most uncharacteristic way. No Auror would sit like that, and certainly Harry would normally have his back to a wall. Everything was wrong about this.

"What did I wear at our engagement party?"

"Green robes, diamond earrings, and nothing underneath, vixen." He chucked knowingly. Okay, he'd passed that test, but there were a number of people there that night. "What is your secret endearment for me…the one you only used when we were in danger?"

"Toodles."

Well, if this was an imposter, he certainly knew an awful lot. Albus, she called. No answer. Damn, she was just too far away from the castle.

"Where is Sirius?" She was edging away, preparing to make a move. "He was called away. What's with the twenty questions?" Now she knew. Good grief, would Harry come in to see Sirius if he wasn't even there? Don't think so.

"I don't think you are Harry Potter."

"Oh come now, Hermione, your paranoia's gotten the better of you. Here's the damn scar," he said, flattening his hair upward to reveal the jagged mark.

"I'm out of here." She got up, and left the Three Broomsticks quickly. Looking behind her, she didn't see him following yet. Thank God, she thought, preparing to Apparate to the edge of Hogwarts to walk into the grounds and re-establish her connection to Albus. As she began to wink out of existence, she felt strong hands grab her and commandeer her elsewhere. She had a sinking feeling that she knew where she would end up.


	14. Chapter 14

"Polyjuice again, Lucius? Really, there is no creativity in your bag of tricks, is there?" Hermione was in full-blazing-anger-Auror mode now, and if she was going to die, she was going to bring him down a notch or two.

"Oh Hermione, hardly one of my best moves, but it worked. I had to have you again, you see, before that wretched Snape could get his hands on you. And yes, I know about your little experiments. Potter was so easy to break. What did you see in that idiot boy, when you've had a real man?" That smooth voice, eating at her soul, dredging up all those shameful feelings of the past. She wouldn't let him have the pleasure of knowing that he was affecting her.

"What have you done with him?"

"He's alive. Don't you fret, darling, you'll be with him soon. I just need to know a little more about your research, and then we'll have a little fun."

"I don't believe he was easy to break. You're lying."

"Perhaps, Toodles."

"Fuck you."

"Oh, that will certainly be a part of this day's games. But I digress. You can save yourself and your idiotic hero of a lover…oy, former lover…and I won't even spoil you for Snape if you'll just hand over what you've been working on."

"I'll die, of course, before I hand anything to you."

"Oh, darling one, you'll die with that attitude; but you will give me what I want before you do. Draco has been itching to have his last fun before he marries that idiot of a wretch, Pansy. She has been so, so useful in bringing you to me through Potter." Harry, you prat, she thought to herself. You finally went to her for information once too often.

"All your threats of rape and torture and death don't do a thing to me, now. I'm not a seventeen year old girl anymore. Do your worst."

"Well, my worst includes summoning your erstwhile lover Snape to join you for a little amusement. It will be such a lovely replay of the past, don't you think? And, since I know he has access to all your little secrets, I'm certain he'll let me in on the details of your research in exchange for your life. Foolish idiot that he is."

"Don't drag him into your mess. He won't tell you anything. You overestimate his regard for me, I assure you."

"Oh, but darling girl, I made you both what you are today. He may have Voldemort fooled, but he doesn't have me fooled. I know he's been helping you, but what I'm sure you don't know is how easily he will turn it over to me rather than face the wrath of the Dark Lord. I won't ask him to watch you die; I do have my merciful moments." With that dark promise, he swept up the stairs, leaving her alone in the dungeon with decisions to make. A few moments later, Draco Malfoy came down the stairs leading Harry by the nose, literally. A few mumbled words and Harry was bound and laying on the floor next to Hermione. "Isn't this lovely, Potter? That's what you get for putting the moves on my fiancé." Draco stalked out of the room.

"Hermione, are you all right?"

"You told him about Toodles?"

"Veritaserum…I couldn't administer the antidote, somehow they knew about it and removed my hollow tooth before it was given." All Aurors had a adopted the old Muggle spy routine; a couple of hollow teeth with a counterpotion to Veritaserum, and a Draught of Living Death that could be used as a way to get out of a compromising situation. It was Hermoine's idea, being the child of dentists and an old fan of intrigue. Since Hermione was not an active Auror, she no longer had these, but Harry would have been able to use them. Apparently, that secret was not as well guarded as Amos thought.

"Fuck."

"You got that right. But oddly, all he asked about was you, and me, and about Snape. He hardly asked at all about your research."

"I'm sorry, Harry. I am afraid I made you a target."

"Should have known Pansy was cultivating me for some reason other than just getting into my pants. This isn't your fault."

They stared at the ceiling in silence. Finally, Hermione began to tell Harry of her work on reliving her memories with Remus and Severus. She explained how her relationship with him was born, and how she now felt – now realized she had always felt - about Snape. She left no detail out, but her confessional was the final piece of a very large puzzle.

Harry nodded after it was all said. Deep down he had known, and had waited for this day to come, even though it was certainly under inauspicious circumstances. "About time, my love, that you faced up to all your truths. How are you now?"  
  


"I was rather conflicted only hours ago, but now I'm not. I'm right back where it started. Ron died over there at the foot of those stairs. My tattered soul was buried here, right where I'm lying, and yet I think I've resurrected it by coming back here. Harry, I can *feel* again; I had thought myself to be emotionless, but I'm not. We _will_ win this round, Harry, I know it now more clearly than I ever had. It was as if I needed this epiphany, and the spell I was creating will save me – and you -- as well as saving Severus. Now listen carefully, Harry. I will get you out of here and we will get justice for what Voldemort and his pet Lucius have done to us – to Ron – to everyone. Trust me." Then, oddly enough, she began to sing. A minor, if he wasn't mistaken. A look of concentration passed over her face, and then she winked out of his sight. "Hermione?" 

It had been a gamble, of course, but she had hoped fervently that she would still be able to control the spell from earlier by singing again, and it worked. One needed to be able to sing the final incantation to do it, and thankfully Lucius had been careless enough not to silence the two of them. Sweet mistake, she thought, as she floated above Harry's astonished, unseeing eyes, and retreated up the stairs of Malfoy's dungeons.

She came across him in the front parlor of the house. He was muttering to himself. She watched his patrician, beautiful, cold face as he muttered. Well, as long as her ethical considerations were failing her, she could admit it. He was truly evil personified, and it was oddly beautiful, and that was compelling enough to float there and watch him and contemplate that fact for a moment. Draco came in, and the two talked briefly about their plans for Snape. She knew that had to get to him right away before he discovered her disappearance and came charging after her and into the Malfoys' trap, and they had to get Harry out. Time was of the essence. She thought of the dungeons, and was suddenly there. The Overgrown Bat persona was looming over her Slytherin DADA student. Good, she was not too late.

"And you say that she Apparated and hasn't been seen since? You witnessed this?"

"I was in Hogsmeade on an errand for…for Professor Lupin…sir. She had been accompanied by Harry Potter in the Three Broomsticks. I saw him put on his invisibility cloak, and I knew he was following her, and then I saw him throw off the cloak and ambush her as she prepared to apparate." He cleared his throat and waited for the punishment to be meted out for being in Hogsmeade without clearing it with Snape; he knew his head of house well. 

"Did Lupin send you to watch over her?"

Dare he admit this? Would Lupin kill him? The truth was, Lupin could not go himself because of the full moon, and Sirius had disappeared a few days before. Remus had gotten a very strange note from Harry and deduced that there was a potential that things had been compromised, but had been too weak to go after Hermione. He had summoned his best student and asked him to go to Hogsmeade keep an eye on her. 

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you, that will be all. No, I won't take points off, but I wish you had told me so I could have gone myself to watch her." Severus knew that Lupin would be useless right about now, and he didn't want to get the old man in on it just yet. Fortunately, before he could think about his next step and do something rash, Hermione appeared.

"It worked!" she said, as he jumped 4 feet into the air, and then after his nerves had calmed, "I know I startled you, but I had put an ingredient in the potion to allow me to turn it on and off at will. It works."

He didn't know what to say. Trembling, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, not knowing whether to yell at her or kiss her.

"Harry is in danger, and so are you if you go near the Malfoys. We have to save Harry."

"What happened?"

"Lucius has him. Had me, and was threatening me with all kinds of nonsense, but I had a feeling that I could get out with the _Spiritus_."

"You didn't tell me you could turn it on and off at will."

"Wasn't totally sure, until now, that it could last this long. Some of the things I had tried with it worked; some didn't, and I didn't have time to try this part earlier."

"We've got to get Potter. His target is obviously you, but Potter is too valuable to languish in a dungeon much longer."

_Albus?_

_Yes, dear._

_Owl Diggory. No, floo him, this is really important. Harry Potter is in Lucius Malfoy's dungeon, and has been questioned under Veritaserum. Fortunately for the Ministry and the Light, it seems Lucius was far more interested in questioning Harry about me than about our secrets – the fool. I was his prisoner briefly and then escaped, but we must get Harry out. I know that Diggory will have a better way to accomplish this than anything I could do. Not to mention that there was no way to hold him accountable for what happened before because he had a fellow Death Eater give him an alibi; if he is taken unaware while holding Harry Potter prisoner, no alibi can be in place and he can finally go to Azkaban where he belongs._

_I'm taking care of it now, my dear. Come see me when you have a minute, and bring Severus with you; I would be interested in hearing what has transpired._

I will. Thanks. Let me know what Diggory says.

Disengaging herself from Severus' arms, she said, "I've let Albus know and he will have Diggory take care of it."

"Blast the ministry! I can go there by virtue of being a Death Eater…"  
  


"No." She said it as firmly as she could muster, given her sudden exhaustion. "You. Will. Not. Go. Near. Malfoy. Manor. He knows, Severus, he knows you are disloyal. I assume Harry must have told him under Veritaserum, and before you go off on Harry, it was not his fault. Damn Malfoy."

"This changes some things."

"It was all going to change anyway. The _Spiritus Insata_ works."

"You will teach me how to do it. I have made up my mind to continue in my efforts."

"Oh, please. The Aurors can do it. Retire, Severus."

"Give me a reason, then." Unexpected, that. The Overgrown Bat persona had faded some with his realization that she was all right, and had been safe in his arms.

"Yes, I did hear your confession to Albus this morning. No need to test me." She tried to be funny, but the look on his face changed her mind. "I have a confession, too."

He folded his arms, but said nothing.

"I love you. I have loved you since I was a blushing teenager. I loved you before, during, and after our ordeal. Some of your assumptions about why I ended up with Harry were correct, but others weren't. I was running away from my feelings for you, feelings I assumed could never be returned. I also had a great deal of shame and guilt and preferred to keep it all buried and focus on being driven in my career, but seeing you again and being here... well, I would hope we have slain the demons, and can start over."

"Nice speech, but incredibly misguided affection, Granger. Why on earth would you love me? What I did to you…" Dare he hope? Should the demons be banished permanently?

"Not misguided. Genuine love, yours to accept, though I've had trouble seeing it from time to time. What you did to me is in the past, and we both know how limited your choices have been. Being in Malfoy's clutches one more time, no matter how briefly, made me realize that life is passing me by and I'm not living it. And I intend to start living, right now." At this, she closed the gap between them and kissed him. 


	15. Chapter 15

_Hermione?_

_Not now, Albus._

_It's important._

_You ancient, insufferable warlock. She said "Not now!"_

_Severus? _Now this was an interesting wrinkle. _I take it you're, er, in physical contact with Dr. Granger._

_You could say that. Now leave us be._

A knowing grin appeared on Dumbledore's lips, not going unnoticed by Minerva McGonagall, who happened to be seated in his office eyeing him suspiciously. _Just thought I'd let you both know that Harry has been retrieved by the Aurors, and Lucius is in for questioning. He's spitting mad and cursing the day you were born, Hermione. I daresay we finally have the goods to put him in Azkaban, because he can't seem to hold his tongue._

_Touching, really. Now Albus?_

_Yes, my lemondrop?_

_Get out of my head. I have some important…things to do._

_Indeed, she does, old man, so bugger off._

_Oh, I'll go, you lovebirds! I do love happy endings…_

"I think, Minerva, that we have much to celebrate this evening. Much indeed."With that, he began preparing an owl to Florean apprising him that, in fact, he thought they could let that Muggle flat in London go…he didn't think she'd be needing it any longer.

*~*

"Hermione?" he whispered as he lightly massaged her shoulders. She was sitting in his lap, savoring the quiet nearness of him before heading up to Dumbledore's office for a full debriefing.

"Yes?"

"I don't even know where to begin. I have so much to say to you, and you know I'm a man of very few words and even less sentimentality."

"Let's not rush it, then. One thing at a time." She was, truthfully, a bit overwhelmed that she was sitting in the Head of Slytherin's lap again, and that he wasn't resisting. She knew that it should be a long way from an admission of long-denied love made in stressful circumstances, to being comfortable in each other's arms, but somehow they were both comfortable indeed.

_Is this the Good Part? The Payoff? The Happily Ever After?_ She mused.

Oh, most definitely.

"Severus, I had this awful crush on you that started shortly before Lucius abducted me. You see, one day in class you were being particularly awful to poor Neville, and I leapt to his defense as usual."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all, and you'll be scrubbing out cauldrons as a detention."

"Exactly. But the way you said it, see… it was the first week after the summer holidays, and I guess I'd changed – your voice struck me as sexy rather than frightening. Naturally, I was appalled by that realization, and having more or less committed to consummate a relationship with Ron in our correspondence over the summer, I pushed you out of my mind. But when I returned for detention, I found myself watching you as you marked papers and tidied up the room, and saw you as a man rather than that greasy git who never cut any of us slack. I fell rather hard. Ron had no chance; I was in the throes of teenage lust for the teacher."

"This is the part where I get sanctimonious about the whole idea of a student-teacher relationship, and chastise you for a silly schoolgirl crush, right?"

"Well?"

"I had the same problem. I knew it was foolish and ill-advised of course, and kept it to myself, and never would have acted upon it. But I remember the detention in question very well. I knew you were watching me, and my heart was in my throat the whole night. I couldn't wait for that long year to end, so you'd be out of my sight and I could go back to my usual self-hate and unworthiness…the old tried and true Snape-as-unworthy-ex-Death-Eater angst."

"And, after Lucius did what he did, we both turned away from our feelings as too awful and unsavory to bear. That bastard robbed us of what could have been."

"Some might say he pushed us together." At her goggle, he said, "I'm not trying to make what he did, or what I did, any less heinous than it was. But if all had gone smoothly and there had been no dungeon battle, you would have graduated and left and we would have likely never gotten together."

"See, that's the kind of paradox that says that Ron had to die for me to escape. I hate that kind of logic."

"It's so Dumbledoreian."

"And sounds suspiciously like a plot contrivance for an angsty piece of fiction."

"Too true…"

"I think it's time to turn this story into romance, don't you?" And with that, the first kiss of a new relationship, free of the demons of the past, began. As his hands caressed her arms, her back, and settled into her long hair, and their passion grew, she knew that this was right. For the first time in her life, everything really felt right. Amazing.


	16. Epilogue

"So, Tom Riddle was mortal after all, eh Potter?" Flushed and more exhausted than he had ever been, the Boy Who Lived, the one that everyone had always known would defeat the Dark stood triumphant on the battlefield that had once been the Forbidden Forest with the companions that helped him deliver the final blow. Harry, Snape, and Hermione uttered the curses together after sneaking up on Voldemort from three sides using a perfected version of the _Spiritus Insata_; the latest version allowed the spellcasters to not only perform wandless magic in spirit form, but be able to maintain telepathic contact with others in the spirit world as long as one of the casters was Hermione. This had been the greatest use of all; three killing curses triangulated on the victim assured them success, and none of them felt the least bit of inner moral outrage at using Avada Kedavra thanks to that lovely ethics inhibitor. After all, it was kill or be killed, and they had protected Albus and untold more lives from doom. Sure, perhaps they should have left things up to the Ministry, but that moral dilemma didn't enter into it. And the ministry, under Ron Weasley's father, would certainly look the other way now. Justice had finally been served.

Hermione was offered the position of Hogwarts Chief Mediwitch upon Madam Pomfrey's retirement that year. She didn't have to think about it. She was home. Sir Cadogan wasn't too keen on letting her move out and into the dungeons, but he really didn't have a choice in the matter. And Snape actually asked Harry to be the best man.

Albus refused to stop interfering with everyone's lives, but somehow, this didn't bother Severus the way it should have.

And that, dear readers, is a happy ending. 

~*~*~

A/N Thank you to all who have read and enjoyed this fic. Hope you don't mind the fluffy ending, but after all that angst, I needed some fun.

My special thanks to Rosmerta, Ida, and other readers from WIKTT who were very encouraging in my first foray into fanfiction! Thank you!

--LeoGryffin 3/10/03


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